Purple Haze Feedback: Slight Return
by makisensei16
Summary: In an alternative universe, Fugo never abandoned the group on the boat. Most importantly, he never abandoned Narancia. This story tells the tale of the progression of their relationship, from flashbacks to the present day.
1. Bold as Love

Purple Haze Feedback: Slight Return

Chapter 1: Bold as Love

Fugo slept an uneasy sleep, the feeling of guilt penetrating into his very dreams. He dreamt that the boy he loved, the one person his unstable, often unmoving heart opened to, was dead. In his dream he saw his love's death with his own eyes. The body he was in was not his own, rather in a cruel twist of fate caused by a variety of events, his soul was encased in his partner's body. Dazed and confused, he didn't even realise it had happened at first, until he had glanced over and seen his own physical form a few feet from him. Perhaps it was because they were so closely linked, but during this version of the soul swapping which occurred when Polnareff unleashed his Stand, Silver Chariot Requiem, it was Fugo's and Narancia's souls who exchanged bodies, not Giorno's.

Fugo saw his body impaled on the cruel spikes of a fence by the Boss' Stand, King Crimson, unable to move, or do anything, knowing that his body encased the soul of his lovers'.

He awoke with a start, his gasp casing the body next to him to stir and slowly awaken. "Fugo? You ok?" Fugo blinked, overcome with relief, it was just a nightmare, Narancia was groggy, but alive next to him, or that another trick of his psyche? "Nara…what happened, I thought…" The smaller figure looked at him dazed and blankly for a moment, still trying to coax his mind into consciousness.

"Wha?" Fugo shook his head. "Didn't I abandon you and the others…back on the boat?" Narancia blinked and then finally responded, almost as confused as his blonde bed mate. "Wha? Nah, that never happened…you weren't happy about betraying the boss, sure, but, for some reason, you stayed." Narancia looked away, it was too dark to see, but his face was reddening despite his half-awake state. Narancia always avoided eye contact when uncomfortable or embarrassed, an innocent child like quirk which made Fugo's heart fill with an odd feeling of adoration.

"Something told me…about what would happen if I did…I couldn't let you get hurt, something made me realise that, I had to protect you, status in the organisation meant nothing if you weren't in it with me. I had to listen to my heart instead of my head for once…it was hard but, I'm glad I did." Suddenly, Fugo turned and gripped Narancia in a firm embrace, tears begin to well up in his eyes beyond his control, he buried his face into the chest of the older boy. He hated how quickly his emotions would overcome him, how impulsive he could be. He wanted to be strong, but at the same time, he knew that the person he was holding onto would not push him away, would not shun him for them. He would hold him close and wait for the wave to pass.

Narancia fought against his embarrassment for Fugo's sake. Even though it was just the two of them, Narancia too struggled to understand all the emotions he felt when he was with Fugo. His heart would beat and swell beyond his control and it would scare him. Gently, he held the younger boy tightly and stroked his hair. "You're such a dummy sometimes Panna…I ain't going nowhere, you saved me after all, I owe you more than I'm smart enough ta know."

That was right. It must have been fate. Fate that Fugo had been late that day rushing to meet Bucciarati. Fate that he had stopped to look into the alley way and seen a boy, or at that time, Fugo wasn't really sure, but a child close to his age regardless, digging through garbage. A fate that could have so easily been his if not for being recruited by Bruno. Without thinking, he grabbed the adolescent's arm and pulled him into the restaurant with him.

Neither of them knew it back then, but from that moment, the red string of destiny had wrapped itself around both of their hearts and tied them together. Narancia, ironically, might have realised it before Fugo did. While he lay in his hospital bed, recovering from his eye surgery, that strange boy who he had met that day was all he could think of. Narancia didn't really know what these feelings meant, he just knew he wanted to meet that boy again.

Six months later fate brought them together again. Narancia had used his contacts on the street to find out more about the criminal organisation known as Passione, and more importantly, the young genius member named Panncotta Fugo.

They ran into each other on the street, Narancia boldly approached. "Y-yo! It's you, right? You helped me out." Fugo looked over the adolescent, still unsure of the exact gender they possessed, he had assumed it was a boy, because of the clothing they wore, but that face…it could have easily been a girl dressing in men's clothing out of practicality and to avoid attention. Their eye disease had been cured, no longer swollen and purple, those eyes stunned him. Thick long eyelashes surrounded purple orbs which shone with determination.

Narancia had begged him to let him join the gang, initially, Fugo was hesitant, not wanting to let him get involved, not wanting him to get hurt, so as a test, he brought out his Stand. "Turn around, Narancia," he said, quietly. "Mm? Why?"

"Just do it."Confused, Narancia turned his head. He frowned...then yelped.

"Wh-what the hell is that? Like a ghost or... I can see through it!"

Fugo nodded. "If you can see Purple Haze, you've got the potential."

"Hunh? What?"

"You should be able to pass Polpo's test with no problem. It won't get you killed."

Fugo dismissed Purple Haze.

And so Narancia successfully took Polpo's test and obtained a Stand of his own.

Bruno wasn't surprised when he saw Fugo return to the restaurant with Narancia trailing behind him. Bucciarati was excellent at reading people, he knew deep down that Narancia wasn't going to give up, and that Fugo was already infatuated with the feminine looking individual, although he was conscious of it yet.

"Ah, Bucciarati! I know you told me not to get involved but…Please don't be mad at Fugo, I talked him into it." Narancia was unable to look his capo in the eyes, overcome by embarrassment although he wasn't exactly sure why.

"No, its alright. I should have known that you weren't the type to give up so easily. I'm not against you being in the gang but I do have some conditions. I am still adamant about you receiving an education; I don't expect you to go to school of course, not that you're with us, you'll be far too busy; but, I think that Fugo should be capable of teaching you what you need to know, if you're alright with that of course, Fugo."

Fugo gulped. He couldn't turn away from Bruno's steely gaze, nor could he ignore a request from a commanding officer. "Yes sir…"

"Awesome! I won't let you down I swear!" Narancia's childish enthusiasm made Fugo smile against his own will. Deep down, he wished he could be so easily excited by things. "There are others in the group, but I think you should make yourself more…presentable before you meet them." For some reason, Fugo became flustered, as straggly as the adolescent was, even this grimy appearance made his heart beat unnaturally fast, he was almost scared at how he would react when the beauty that seemed to be just barely hiding underneath was fully revealed.

"Huh? How I am I gonna do that? We haven't done a job yet, I ain't got no money, no place to stay…" Fugo had to physically fight to keep himself from blushing as he suggested to a solution to that problem. "I'll buy you some clothes, you can pay me back after your first job. As for accommodation, you stayed at Bucciarati's for a bit, why don't you stay with me for a while this time…"

Narancia looked like a small child who'd been offered a free all you can grab trip to a toy store, then, perhaps aware of how this reaction might look, reddened slightly, his eyes on the floor. "You sure that's ok? I dun want to be a bother to you…"

"Its fine, really…" Struggling to keep his composure, Fugo bid farewell to Bruno and led Narancia off.


	2. Never Loved a Girl

Purple Haze Feedback: Slight Return

Chapter 2: Never Loved a Girl

He really is a child…Fugo thought with some annoyance as Narancia jabbered with excitement as they drove out into the distant country side of Naples, out onto the secluded wine estate where Fugo lived.

The villa itself was not too ostentatious; an old, Tuscan building, two stories high, surrounded by calm and quiet, but to Narancia, it was like something out of a film, the old glamour of it. Coming from a wealthy family, Fugo was used to living in comfort, yet unnecessary showiness disgusted him. This place was a nice in-between.

"You seriously live here? It's awesome!" Narancia asked in awe. Fugo scoffed, "I'm not sure why you're so ecstatic, you've stayed with Bucciarati, his home was far more impressive." This didn't dissuade the enthusiastic youth at all, who was practically bouncing with excitement at the prospect of getting to explore the inside.

"I'll give you a proper tour later, for now, you just need to focus on cleaning yourself up, so we can get you something decent to wear for when Bucciarati introduces you to the others." Together they walked through the house, Narancia practically bounding up the stairs without really listening to what Fugo was saying.

Fugo stopped at one of the closed doors, suddenly beginning to feel flustered. "This…this will be your room for the time being. I haven't had the chance to really prepare anything so please excuse the mess. There's an en suite bathroom as well. Uhm, if you do decide to stay, you're welcome to decorate it as you see fit." Narancia didn't even seem to be listening, rather he stood open mouthed gawking at the room's interior, his host having opened the door as he spoke.

It was a simple room, larger than an average bedroom perhaps, but nothing outlandish. It was clearly meant to be a guest room, being decorated to appeal to as wide a variety of guests as possible. Considering that Fugo never really had guests, apart from the odd member of his team who would come over to discuss a job, it was rather bland. A large queen-sized bed with plush, comfortable looking bedding took up much of the space, along with two night stands on either side. A desk, closet and bookshelf filled with books of inconsequential titles which had never been read were the only other furniture.

To Narancia, it was a place to call his own, a place he could eventually change to suit his tastes. His attention was captivated by the grand queen-sized bed, appearing irresistibly soft. Acting on impulse, he ran into the room and jumped onto it, sinking into its soft down bedding, burying his face into one of the quilted pillows.

"Holy shit! This bed is fucking awesome! Aw man, I'm beat. I swear I could pass out right now." He yawned exaggeratingly. The combination of this and the foul language irked Fugo. "Don't be an idiot, you need to get into the shower now, so we can go shopping! How can you possibly think you introducing yourself to the rest of the group looking like that, huh?!"

The younger boy's outburst shocked him; this would be the first of many times he would witness Fugo's rage. Finally noticing Narancia's silence, Fugo calmed. He instantly felt guilty for loosing it in front of someone whose safety he was responsible for, someone who he would sharing a home with, though probably not for long now that he'd let his anger get the better of him…

"Sorry…sometimes my temper gets the better of me. I can't promise that it won't happen again, but I really meant it when I told Bucciarati that I would look out for you. I dragged you into this, I have to accept responsibility for that." To Fugo's surprise, Narancia was laughing, "Chill out man, its not that big a deal. I lose control sometimes too and get so mad I just wanna murder the person who pissed me off. I understand. And thanks again, for letting me stay here."

Suddenly, the darker complexioned boy seemed to redden somewhat around his face, as if realising something. Perhaps the reality of the fact that they would be living together beginning setting in. "Ah. Right. I better let you clean up, let me know when you're done. You'll have to wear the clothes you came in here with afterwards, which I suppose defeats the purpose, but the place I'm going to take you to, to get new ones has certain standards…" 

Fugo decided to sit on a sofa in the hallway outside the guest room while he waited. He couldn't help but wonder if the newest recruit really was hiding their true gender under those worn out clothes. They had the mannerisms and speech patterns of a boy, but such a feminine face…and body? Fugo blushed. He hadn't thought about that yet. In fact, he'd never really had the typical thoughts you'd expect from an adolescent up until now.

What if Narancia really was a girl? Fugo had never given any thought to his own sexual orientation. It was useless. If his family had their way, he'd be kept in the dark about such things until they found a suitable girl for him to marry. He would never be given a choice, so why bother? In fact, he felt repulsed women, their two-faced attitudes and general fickleness. Why then, did his heart speed up when he looked at Narancia, some-one whose gender he wasn't even sure of?

He shook his head, attempting to dispel that train of thought. Thinking that way would just unnecessarily complicate matters, and that was the last thing he needed.

After about ten or so minutes, Narancia stepped out into the hallway, his dark hair still wet from the shower. "Man, that felt good! You got some pretty interesting products in there, I didn't even know what half of them are for. They all smell kind of fruity though, its neat!" The new recruits' ability to get excited by the smallest of things made Fugo smile without even realising it.

"Just you wait until you see the place I'm taking you, try not to over react too much." Fugo said this almost jokingly. Narancia just stared, as if astounded by something. "I think that's the first time I've seen you smile, it's…well, uh, you look really cool when you smile, you should do it more!" The blonde boy reddened slightly, did he really just smile? Few things could make him feel anything but rage, yet Narancia was making him feel odd bursts of…contentment?

Fugo glanced at Narancia's wet eyelashes, stunned once more by his beauty. He found himself unconsciously looking at the older boy's lips too, so plump and full, with a shape he'd seen on many female supermodel others would consider incredibly attractive. Everything about Narancia's visage was so feminine; even in his worn-out clothing clearly made for boys. Fugo's mind raced with questions again, he wondered how Narancia would react if he suggested he try on some things from the female section.

The drive down to the boutique was surprisingly silent. Narancia was clearly excited by the prospect of getting some "cool new threads", as he put it, but perhaps out of gratitude to the person buying said threads, contained most of that excitement within himself.

Narancia's mood shifted somewhat when they arrived however, overwhelmed by the air of exclusivity it gave off and perhaps embarrassed by the dirty looks he received from the other customers. Those looks quickly turned away however, when they saw that Fugo was with him.

"Um…this place is really neat and all, but to be honest I don't really know where to start…I've never uh, chosen my own clothes, I've just worn whatever what was given to me. It's embarrassing but…could you help me?" He said this very quietly, clearly ashamed by this admission. Fugo's heart thumped, he was afraid that Narancia would ask this. He wasn't sure he trusted himself with picking the attire of someone so androgynous.

Regardless, he couldn't exactly turn down Narancia's request, not when he was looking at him so pleadingly, those gorgeous purple eyes boring into his very soul. "Ah, I'm flattered that you trust me with something so important. Let's go to one of the private dressing rooms, I'll pick out some things and bring them to you there to try on." Narancia blinked and nodded, almost hiding behind Fugo as he guided him towards the aforementioned dressing room.

Fugo got increasingly more nervous when they got there. The dressing room was large and elegantly designed, befitting such an establishment. Mannequins, selves and hangers adored the walls, alongside scenic paintings of the Italian country side. A curtained off changing section filled the one half of the room, with a large plush sofa directly across from it, clearly meant to make viewing comfortable for whoever was judging the suitableness of the various outfits on display. The intimacy of the room seemed to escape Narancia however, who plopped down on the sofa and gawked in awe of his surroundings.

"I'll try not be too long, just stay here and wait for me. If you need anything, feel free to press that button just next to the sofa to call for assistance."

In an attempt to not be too obvious of his probing into Narancia's gender, Fugo picked out several different outfits he felt were a safe mixture of male and female items of clothing, one set in particular being racier and more feminine than the rest. He gulped, debating on whether to even present them. In the end though, he decided to take chance and give into his curiosity. He would soon regret this.

"Here, try these on and let me know what you think." Fugo said as he almost thrust the pile of clothing at Narancia, not daring to look at him directly to gauge the reaction of the other boy. Narancia scuttled off behind the curtain.

Fugo sat and taped his foot with agitation as he waited a considerable amount of time for Narancia to decide on the outfit he wanted to make his first appearance to his new group in. Annoyance built up inside him, Narancia must have been a woman if it was taking them so damn long to get ready. "What's taking you so long? The others are probably at the restaurant by now. They're going to be really pissed if you keep them waiting…"

"Ah! My bad! I think I found something, it's just…Its kind of embarrassing, but really cool too!" Narancia coyly stepped out from behind the curtain, giving a playful little twirl as he did so.

It was the outfit Fugo had been most hesitant about choosing. As he had feared and suspected, it completely accentuated all of Narancia's femininity, to the point where Fugo was now convinced the new recruit really was a woman, except…though the black top clung sensuously to Narancia's upper half, Fugo could see no round mounds indicating breasts. What he could see through the tightness, though were the outline of well-developed stomach muscles.

Fugo gulped, feeling the blood rush to his groin, being helpless in controlling his body's subconscious reactions. The choker linked by several lines of cloth, attached to the shirt only added to the eroticism. Even Narancia's neck was slender and elegant, the olive colour of his skin standing out against the darkness.

Then there was the bright orange square shaped skirt, meant to be purely an accessory and a way to store things in its back pockets, but the pants underneath were so tight they might have well been leggings, making the skirt stand out much more than it should have. The way Narancia was childishly twirling around in it wasn't helping…

The orange head band Narancia worn around his head was the cherry on top of the cake. The way it had moved around and separated his mid-length dark hair had exposed more of his beautifully girlish face. His eyes and their impossibly thick lashes standing out and striking Fugo right in the heart. Narancia's plump lips playfully pouting as he attempted to do a mock up of a pose he'd probably seen in some fashion magazine.

He was completely unaware of how gorgeous he was, looking just like a naturally beautiful tom-boy who had no need of things like make up to falsify their prettiness.

Narancia was also, thankfully, unaware of how his dramatically enchanting appearance was affecting Fugo physically. Who had now resorted to leaning forward to try and hide his embarrassing predicament from the older adolescent across the room from him.

"What do you think? I wasn't too sure about it at first cause I thought the skirt was kinda weird, but now I think it's actually really cool!" Narancia moved his hips from side to side jovially, enjoying the swooshing it made. Finally, he noticed that Fugo was bent over, almost as if in pain, "Whoa, you ok Fugo? Did ya eat something bad?"

He motioned to move forward, concerned for his new friend's wellbeing, but as he did so, Fugo yelped out in protest. "Ah, I'm ok, please don't worry about me! I just suddenly got a pain in my side, don't move for my sake." Fugo forced a smile, he wasn't lying about being in pain. The sudden arousal had made part of himself so engorged and swollen, it had become physically uncomfortable. Never had he expected such a violent reaction to something so seemingly trivial.

"It looks really cool Narancia, I think you should go with that one. Just, make sure you change into your old clothing first before we buy it. Unfortunately, we can't just walk out with something we've just bought, they're pretty strict about that." Fugo was lying. Contrary to what he was saying, the boutique preferred if customers left wearing their newly purchased items, a way of getting free advertising of sorts.

"I'm so glad you like it! I'll go get changed right now, thanks Fugo!" Fugo sighed in relief. He needed to focus on getting his body to calm down in the time it took for Narancia to get changed. Standing up was definitely not an opinion in his current state. Thankfully, it eventually seemed to comply, as he felt the throbbing dull and the tightening deflate.

He couldn't help but worry though, about whether his body would have the same reaction once Narancia got changed back into the outfit for the meeting with the others. The others…Fugo suddenly became concerned about them as well. He knew that Bucciarati would have no interest in Narancia that way, he was far too girlish to be Bruno's type. Abbacchio and Mista though, could be a problem. Abbacchio seemed to like younger boys, the prettier the better; and Mista would probably be convinced that Narancia was a cute girl and try something based on that.

Fugo would not allow it. Narancia was his responsibility and he had to protect him from all potential threats, including the team members who might try take advantage of his naivety. Am I one of those who would? He thought, distressed by the impure thoughts that had entered his mind occasionally, regarding his new partner. He dismissed this thought as he watched Narancia happily hug the bag of new clothing to his chest while they walked to the car.

Even if I do have those unwelcome thoughts, I won't allow anything to hurt him, I'll do everything I can to protect that smile…


	3. Love or Confusion

Purple Haze Feedback: Slight Return

Chapter 3: Love or Confusion

"What the heck do you think is taking Fugo and the rookie so long? Think they're already banging? I heard rumours that he's been seen with a cute girl recently, think that's them? Man, I'm jealous!" Mista didn't know it, but Fugo could already hear him from outside the restaurant. He wondered who was spreading those rumours, and how quickly he could deal with them using Purple Haze…

"Do you have a death wish or something? Didn't Bucciarati warn you about talking like that about the new recruit? They could be here any moment." Abbacchio sounded nervous, an unusual occurrence for him. Though if there was one thing that shook the normally unperturbed former police officer, it was Fugo's potential for violent bursts of anger.

It was at that moment that Fugo and Narancia entered the establishment, the former trailing behind the more senior member of the squad. Fugo was irritated by the conversation he had heard between the two other members, and it showed on his face, barely hiding his scowl. Narancia had not yet spoken, being too consumed by the nostalgia of the place to even be aware of the uneasy atmosphere that now permeated the room with their arrival.

Mista too, was unaware, or simply chose to cast it aside out of surprise at the new member's appearance. Fugo and Narancia had briefly stopped back at the villa so that Narancia could change into his newly purchased, signature outfit. Thankful, Fugo had been better able to control himself a second time around. Mista however, was stupefied, more so than usual.

"Aw sweet, looks we finally got a hot babe on the team after all! I'm Mista, that sulky one over there is Abbacchio. Bucciarati is probably taking a phone call around back or speaking with the owner. What's your name?" Narancia blinked for a couple of seconds, confused by Mista's refence to a 'hot babe'. "Huh? I don't see any girls around…" He looked from side to side, beginning to wonder if this Mista guy was messing with him…Abbacchio smirked, realizing the absurdity of the situation.

Finally, Fugo spoke, his voice tinged with annoyance, "This is Narancia. HE is the newest member of our team." Mista gaped, completely stunned. "What? There's no way this cutie here is a guy! I mean, I don't see any tits but…that's not a bad thing. Flat is good too. Tom boys are really great, yeah. I bet you just want her for yourself, huh Fugo? Can't say I blame ya."

Fugo darkened visibly with anger, his hands began to shake, and a purple blur began to manifest behind him. "Shit!" Abbacchio cussed. If Fugo brought out Purple Haze is such a confined space, they'd all be in serious danger. Thankfully, as if sensing that something was wrong, Bucciarati made an extremely timely appearance and spoke.

"Calm down Fugo, you know Mista didn't mean anything by it. Apologies, Narancia, welcome to the team." He smiled serenely, gesturing for Narancia to sit down at the table with the rest of the group. Fugo breathed in deeply, easing his rage enough for the figure appearing behind him to ripple and dissipate. Silently, still bubbling with anger, he pulled out a chair and sat down next to Narancia, his eyes casting daggers at Mista.

The gunman gulped, wishing to defuse the situation, he gestured to the strawberry cream cake on the table. "We ordered this to celebrate you joining us. Its been here for a while but should still be good. You want a slice?" Narancia's eyes widened. "Ooooh, that looks delicious, gimme!"

Before anyone else could make a move to serve him, Fugo grabbed at knife next to the uncut cake and made two large slices into the moist sponge. Deftly, he dished them up onto two separate plates and set them down in front of Narancia, then himself.

Narancia squealed with joy as he began to shove forkfuls of the desert into his mouth. The rest of the group ate in silence. Given the childish enthusiasm of his consumption, Narancia was left with quite a large amount of cream around his mouth.

What a waste…thought Fugo, then his heart thumped. Narancia looked…cute, the cream on the edges of his plump lips glistened tantalisingly. Fugo glanced over and saw that Mista was staring at the juvenile adolescent as well, so was Abbacchio, although he at least had the courtesy to try and be discreet about it…

I'll have to dissuade them somehow…Then, in a show of dominance, he grabbed a cream laden strawberry off the cake and made a gesture to the boy next to him. "Here, Narancia, try this, it's really good too." Just as planned, Narancia opened his mouth to ask what it was. As he did, Fugo bought the strawberry to the tips of his parted lips and gently pushed it inside, so that Narancia was forced to suck on the cream covered fruit.

Mista nearly fell over as he saw this, Abbacchio covered his mouth to muffle his verbal reaction to watching Fugo pull off such an unexpected display of dominance over the girlish boy, something that Abbacchio himself had a proclivity toward. Bucciarati seemed completely unfazed, almost as though he had expected this to happen.

This act of "dominance" however, quickly backfired on Fugo, as watching Narancia suck helplessly on the strawberry seemed to have much lewder connotations which he was only just realising. He quickly released the strawberry, which Narancia was now eating normally, and had rapidly returned to his seat. His face reddening from ear to ear as his body began to react in the same way it had in the boutique.

Narancia cocked his head to one side, "Huh? Fugo, are you sure you're ok? You get another pain in your side again?" He looked genuinely concerned, which only amplified Fugo's guilt at his body's betrayal.

Fugo was completely mortified. For this to happen in front of the others, he would never live this down. It was incredibly awkward, none of the others wanting to say anything out of fear of provoking his wrath. The embarrassment and the blood rushing to his face should have redirected the amount that was pooling into the other area, but for some reason, it just made things worse. Narancia's adorable expression as he sucked on the strawberry stuck in Fugo's mind stubbornly.

Bucciarati cleared his throat, redirecting the attention towards him. "Perhaps we should all order something to drink and then be on our way. I know the introduction was short, but I have something to discuss with everyone that I'd rather not do in public, even in a place as trusted as this. Fugo, would it be alright with you if we all met at your home tomorrow? I know its been a busy day for you so far, but I still would like you to take me up on the promise we agreed on, regarding Narancia's inclusion to the group."

"Wha, so soon already? I was hoping to talk to you guys some more, but I guess it's for the best, since Fugo doesn't seem to be feeling well. This is the second time today he's doubled over like this…" Why must you be so stupidly honest, idiot…Fugo thought. He swore he heard Mista chuckle at what Narancia had said, but he was in no position to do anything about it…

Suddenly, he felt a sense of relief as the swelling rapidly deflated. He turned and looked at Bruno, who subtly returned his glance. Did Bucciarati just use Sticky Fingers to help alleviate his problem? He didn't even realise that the Stand could be used in such a manner. He didn't register the zipper being placed there, but he knew it must have been to try and divert some of the blood building up in the area. He wasn't sure how safe doing such a thing was, but he was sure it wouldn't cause any permanent damage and was honestly just grateful for any assistance he received regarding the delicate matter.

"Bucciarati, I don't want to be too out of place but, would it be alright if we ordered something to eat as well before we went off? Narancia hasn't really had anything today besides the cake, I don't think?" Feeling confident that Sticky Finger's conveniently placed zipper would prevent any further uncontrolled reactions, Fugo lent forward and wiped the cream off Narancia's face with his thumb, licking it off afterwards, his eyes locked onto Mista and Abbacchio's.

Fugo's sudden touch caused Narancia to redden somewhat and his heart to speed up. He didn't know why he was blushing or his heart beating as fast as it was. Maybe not eating did that to you if you had gone for a long enough time without food? "Uh, yeah, I just realised, I must be really hungry cause I feel strange and I haven't really eaten much today. Thanks, Fugo. Is that ok, Bucciarati?"

Bruno smiled, relieved that the situation was calming down and the atmosphere returning to a friendlier one. He was also amused by how much Narancia was blushing from such brief contact, although the boy seemed oblivious to this of course. "Certainly. My apologies again, Narancia, I just assumed that you would have had something to eat when you were out with Fugo earlier. Would you like me to order the same thing you had the first time you were here?"

Narancia's eye's shone with glee, he remembered how delicious that spaghetti had been after months of eating nothing but scraps. "Yes please! I'm so glad you remember what it was, because I'd have no idea. What are you going to have, Fugo?"

Fugo was surprised that Narancia had bothered to ask, no one really asked him trivial things like that out of fear of annoying him, but the fact that Narancia was thinking about him, despite how excited he was about the food made him smile. "I'll have the same as you. You seemed to really enjoy it, so it must be great." Narancia giggled. "It was! I think eating it will remind me of the first time we met as well."

Hearing Narancia say that made Fugo's heart swell up with such an odd sense of warmth he was certain it would burst. Could Bucciarati put a zipper there too? Fugo dismissed that thought. Even if his heart did burst from the sensation, it would be worth the trouble just to feel that feeling, something he hadn't felt since he used to spend those afternoons so long ago with his grandmother…

Everyone else made their orders and their food came after not too long of a wait. Fugo had eaten this particular dish so many times before, but this time it was so scrumptious he couldn't help but wonder if they hired a new chef. He spent most of the meal watching Narancia enthusiastically consume his pasta, vocally praising the taste every few mouthfuls. For the first time in his life, Fugo felt proud. Proud that this gorgeous boy was safe and off the streets, happily eating good food, all because of him.


	4. I don't want to miss a thing

Purple Haze Feedback: Slight Return

Chapter 4: I don't want to miss a thing

I could stay awake just to hear you breathing

Watch you smile while you are sleeping

While you're far away dreaming

I could spend my life in this sweet surrender

I could stay lost in this moment forever

Every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure

Don't want to close my eyes

I don't want to fall asleep

'Cause I'd miss you baby

And I don't want to miss a thing

'Cause even when I dream of you

The sweetest dream will never do

I'd still miss you baby

And I don't want to miss a thing

Fugo smiled as he listened to lyrics of the song playing on the car radio as he drove back to his villa. As cliché as they were, they made him think of the boy who was poorly attempting to sing along to them. "Really, this is the kind of music you like? Somehow, I pictured you being into, well…something else, but not this."

Narancia puffed out his cheeks, looking offended by that statement. "Of course I like Aerosmith! It's the name of my Stand after all. Besides, its not just this, I like Snoop D, Tupac and BIGGY too you know." He looked away, embarrassed by this admission, expecting Fugo to tease him about his taste in music.

"Aerosmith, huh? Come to think of it, I haven't seen your Stand yet, but you've seen mine. Would you mind showing it to me, when we get back?" Narancia blushed, there his heart went doing that weird thing again. It wasn't a big deal, Fugo was just curious about his Stand's ability, but really, he hadn't expected him to be interested in it all.

Arriving back at the villa, Narancia nervously made circles in the ground with his shoes. His heart still hadn't stopped beating at an exhilarated speed. 'Why is it doing this?' He thought. 'I guess I don't want Fugo to think my Stand is lame or something, dunno why it matters…'

"Here it goes! Aerosmith!" Narancia raised both of his arms to form a platform of sorts, and a small aeroplane manifested itself, using the limbs as a runway. In the cockpit of the diminutive flying machine sat a humanoid figure who seemed to be flying the contraption.

Narancia noted Fugo's curiosity, "That's the pilot, Smith. It's pretty neat, huh? It doesn't just look cool; its actual ability is pretty sweet as well. See, Aerosmith has a, a…what's that stuff that comes out your lungs when you breath?"

"Carbon dioxide?" Narancia smiled enthusiastically, "Yeah, that! You're really smart Fugo. Anyway, it has a carbon dioxide radar it uses to find where enemies are, so it can shoot them to bits! Here, let me show you!"

Fugo watched in silence as Aerosmith suddenly flew off, flying around as if tracking something. Suddenly, he heard rapid gunfire and Narancia's gleeful shout of victory. Walking towards the area where the shots were fired lead to the discovery of the corpse of a small field mouse, hidden away in the tall grass surrounding the estate.

"I must admit, it could certainly come in handy in quite a number of scenarios. It's certainly far more useful than my Stand…" Fugo looked down at his feet solemnly, 'it would be better to have no Stand at all, rather than that disgusting abomination…' Purple Haze was a manifestation of everything Fugo hated about himself, and as a result, he had developed a deep abhorrence to it, only bringing it out in the most dire of situations and when his rage was beyond his control…

"Your Stand is really cool though, I hear it has a crazy strong ability! Uh, what's wrong Fugo, you look depressed." Narancia moved to comfort him, placing a hand on the younger boy's back.

Part of him wanted to smack that hand away, but then he saw the genuine look of concern on the older boy's face. He wondered what Aerosmith said about Narancia's personality. Stands were supposed to be a reflection of their users, after all…

"I'm alright, just tired…It's been a busy day." He forced himself to smile, not wanting to worry his companion further. "Let's go inside. We need to get up early tomorrow if I'm going to fit in a tutoring session before Bucciarati and the others arrive. I think he mentioned the afternoon from what I recall."

"Aw man, so soon. Can't it wait a bit?" Narancia was pouting, looking like a sullen child yet adorable at the same time…Fugo brushed that thought aside. "What was Bucciarati's condition for letting you join the gang?"

"That I hav'ta learn stuff, get an education, urg." Narancia rolled his eyes. He wasn't completely against the idea, in fact, he was almost excited by the prospect of getting to spend more time with Fugo. The biggest issue however, was Narancia's lack of confidence in his ability to learn. He had never been a good student, in fact most of his teachers considered him incapable of learning anything and gave up on him entirely. He was desperately worried that Fugo would think ill of him because of this…

Narancia was reluctant to depart from Fugo when they reached the upstairs corridor. He didn't want to go to sleep all alone in his bed, as comfortable as it was. Was he scared of being alone in a dark room in this big, strange house? He shook his head, that stuff was for kids and despite how he might have acted, he was 17, almost an adult, way too old for that sort of thing.

Still, Narancia felt an odd sense of sadness at being separated from his new friend, his heart still doing that weird jump thing when he thought about how kind Fugo had been to him. 'Sure, he might have yelled at me a couple of times, but he always said sorry afterwards…' Narancia hugged one of the large cushions to his chest, he wondered how it would feel if it was Fugo…'Why am I having such weird thoughts? Maybe I caught whatever sickness Fugo seems to have today…. I hope he's ok…'

Pannacotta Fugo was not ok. His heart raced, and his head filled with thoughts, making sleep almost impossible to obtain. Narancia was so stupidly oblivious to the way the others looked at him, the way Fugo himself looked at him. He didn't want any harm to come to the boy, part of him found that naivety so preciously adorable, but the other part feared how easily exploitable that naivety might be…

With shame, he remembered how violently his body had reacted to witnessing Narancia's almost unearthly beauty. It shouldn't have been physically possible to become that aroused in such a short space of time, from just looking at someone. Fugo cussed as he felt a dull throb in his groin…not again.

It didn't make any sense, for a boy to look that much like a pretty young woman…Maybe it was exactly that defiance of logic that caused such a strong sense of magnetic attraction. The very fact that it was something Fugo couldn't make figure out, was incredibly appealing.

Fugo shifted uncomfortably, the pressure that had built up being almost unbearable. He absolutely refused to resort to what would be the obvious solution to his problem, he couldn't bare to sully Narancia's image that way. It was never something he liked having to do at all in any case. He considered it an unfortunate part of being a teenage boy and was always filled with self-loathing afterwards. He'd never particularly thought of anyone or anything when having to do it either, simply wanting to be done with the unpleasant task.

Out of desperation, Fugo flung open a draw on his nightstand, revealing several pill cases. Irritated by his body's demands robbing him of the rest he would need to properly face the next day, he selected a few and popped them into his mouth. The dull, aching throb was still there when he eventually drifted off to sleep.

Fugo awoke the next day pleased that his body had managed to calm down at some point during his night's rest but was still irritated by the fact that it had made sleep so difficult in the first place. He had lost at least an hour of slumber fighting with himself, and that disturbance was enough to put his entire day off to a bad start.

He didn't want to have to deal with Bucciarati and the others later…it was bad enough that he had to try and tutor Narancia when his thoughts were so scattered around him.

Pannacotta met up with Narancia in the kitchen. Thankfully, the boy had the sense to have showered and dressed beforehand, the sight of a sleepy Narancia still clad in his bedclothes was not something Fugo thought his heart would be able to handle.

"Ah, you're up. Morning Fugo, you have a good sleep?" Narancia seemed cheery, clearly, he had managed to get a better rest than his housemate. 'Must have crashed after using up that seemly boundless energy yesterday, just like a kid…'

"Could have been better…I'm a bit nervous about the group coming over, Bucciarati made it sound like he had something very serious to discuss, especially if he didn't want to do it in the restaurant." It wasn't a complete lie. Fugo didn't like having guests, it felt like having people in his home exposed too much of himself. It felt different with Narancia, however, something about him seemed so comforting that Fugo didn't really mind having his space invaded.

"Uh yeah, I wonder if he has a mission for us or something. Anyway…I'm kind of hungry, what kind of food you got in this place?" Narancia's eyes darted around, he hadn't been in this part of the house yet. It was a large kitchen, Tuscan in design. Narancia seemed to be enthralled by one of the intricate designs on one of the tiles.

"I'll make us some pancakes. After breakfast, I'm going to go over some basic maths with you. That should help us pass the time until the others arrive." The mention of food seemed to grab the smaller boy's attention, he seemed excited by the prospect of getting to eat the fluffy mounds of batter. It wasn't a food Fugo typically enjoyed, but he had figured that this simple, childish meal would appeal to someone like Narancia.

Fugo's instincts were correct. Narancia practically squealed with excitement when Fugo set the pancakes down for them to eat. Knowing that Narancia had a sweet tooth, Fugo had also brought out some syrup, strawberries and cream, all which the Narancia had piled on top of his pancakes with enthusiasm.

Fugo tried to look over the notes he had prepared for their lesson, in order to properly educate his new "student", he would need to know in which areas of learning he was lacking. Unfortunately, he was distracted by how surprisingly endearing watching Narancia eat was. He was so ridiculously easily to please. Fugo sighed and put his notes down, taking bites out of his meal in-between glances.

The two moved to the study for the tutoring session. They sat on a leather sofa in front of a desk littered with a variety of stationary and other typical office equipment. Fugo was nervous. A high IQ didn't automatically make someone a good teacher, and a good teacher certainly didn't have impure thoughts about their student…

He had tried to explain the concepts as best he could, showing Narancia a few examples and even doing a sum himself. The boy did his best to listen as well, but when it came down to actually doing the work…

Narancia stared at the sheet of paper intensely, his tongue pushed out of his mouth in a look of extreme concentration as he scribbled somethings down. Just as intense, was Fugo's gaze on the older boy. 'He has potential after all.' He thought, his heart swelling with pride at the thought that he had seemed to help someone as seemingly dense as his partner learn something.

"Hey, Fugo…I think I'm getting it, but I'm not totally sure. Could you check this for me?" Fugo scooted closer to Narancia, with the honest intention of looking over his work. Unfortunately, this closing in the gap of space between them seemed to spark something in Fugo.

He was so close to Narancia that he could smell the strawberries on his breath and the citrus scent in his gorgeous dark hair. Without thinking, in an act beyond his control, Fugo moved Narancia's head towards his, overcome with the desire to taste this sweet treat in front of him.

And taste he did. He pressed his lips against the other boys', softly at first, letting himself sink into their plumpness. Then, as if trying to extract the juices from a ripe fruit, pushed harder, his tongue slipping into the mouth of the other while he sucked down against Narancia's swollen red lips.

He was absolutely delicious. Every taste of him made Fugo's body engorged with desire, their bodies pressed together dangerously…

Then, suddenly, Fugo snapped back to reality. Almost instantly he was overwhelmed with shame as he stammered to apologise, pulling away from the trembling adolescent beside him. "Narancia, I'm sorry! I don't know what overcame me, I-"

He stopped midsentence. Narancia was squirming, his hands locked in between his legs as he breathed deeply, looking up at Fugo almost pleadingly, tears in his eyes and his entire face flushed with heat. "Fugo, I, I feel really strange…something is happening to my body, I'm scared…it feels so good though. What's wrong with me?"

It wasn't hard to figure out. That kiss had awoken something in Narancia, something that until now had remained buried despite him having to had undergone the development teenagers go through. "Fugo…it's, it's all swollen and throbbing, d-down here. Is it going to fall off? Do something, please Fugo!"

Fugo couldn't believe what he was seeing. He had expected Narancia to recoil with disgust, to hit him or call him a pervert, instead, he was helplessly squirming against his hands, pleading with him to offer some kind of assistance.

'I have to take responsibility for this.' Trying to ignore his body's own excited state, he pulled Narancia towards him, holding him in an attempt at a comforting embrace. "Shh, calm down. That's a normal reaction…my body has been doing that a lot too lately. I know it seems overwhelming right now, but it'll pass, eventually."

Narancia's panicked sobs seemed to ease somewhat. Although Fugo still felt something sharp pressing into his side, he tried not to let this excite him too much and continued to focus on relaxing the older boy. "Narancia…I don't really know how to solve this problem. I feel the exact same way as you, my body is telling me to do all sorts of thing that I really don't know how to, and I'm scared if I try do them, I might hurt you…"

He took a deep breath. "Bucciarati and everyone else might be here soon…try and splash some cold water on your face, the shock should be enough to make that part of you stop feeling so uncomfortable. Once the meeting is over, I'll ask Bucciarati if I can speak with him privately. I know its embarrassing, but there's no one else I trust enough to ask for advice about this kind of thing. You feel the same way, right?"

Narancia nodded, his face buried into his companion's chest. "We will work through this, together. I'm sorry I scared you." Fugo placed a soft kiss on Narancia headband. He wondered how the hell he was going to raise such an awkward topic with Bruno, but he had to try, for Narancia's sake…


	5. Let Me Move You

Purple Haze Feedback: Slight Return

Chapter 5: Let Me Move You

Fugo tried his best to pretend that nothing had happened between him and Narancia, that topic of conversation would have to come after the meeting was over. This would be made extremely difficult however, considering how preceptive Bruno was.

The squad had arrived at the villa about an hour after the encounter between its two occupants, which thankfully had given them both time to calm down. Narancia was still fairly dazed, but the others seemed to just chalk it up to his general absent mindedness.

They gathered in the kitchen, all taking seats at the island counter where Fugo and Narancia had eaten breakfast together earlier. Fugo attempted to be a good host by offering refreshments to the group, but Bucciarati politely declined, everyone else followed suit.

"Thank you, Fugo, but I think its best for us to get to the matters at hand. I appreciate you letting us come here and I apologise for not saying more back at the restaurant, but as you probably suspected, I chose this location for the sake of security. Your address is probably the most secure location out of all of our homes." Bruno turned his gaze toward the newest recruit, who was staring down at one of the tiles again, tracing the pattern on it with his finger.

"Narancia, seeing as you are the newest member of the squad, I thought it would be a good idea to have you go with on the mission I have planned. Its not pleasant, but you'll find few things are in this business. We were ordered my higher up, Polpo, to sniff out and take care of some rival thugs who are encroaching on his territory." The boy looked up and blinked blankly, he wasn't exactly able to form a coherent response, but he at least wanted to show his new commanding officer that he had his attention.

"You might be wondering, why isn't the assassination team being given this job? Simply put, it's too small fry for them, the Boss only sends them out to deal with the big fish targets. We're the ones who dispose of any garbage that washes up on this sore." Narancia looked to Fugo, as if expecting him to speak for him.

"Narancia's Stand would actually be perfect for that. From what I could tell from having briefly witnessed it, it's a remote Stand, equipped with carbon dioxide radar used to tract enemies' breathing." Bruno nodded at what Fugo had said. "Good. It sounds like it will work well with Abbacchio's Moody Blues and Mista's Sex Pistols. I must apologise Fugo, but I have something else in mind for you. Think of it as an opportunity for the others to get to know Narancia a bit more. I'm sure you've already bounded quite a bit, and its important for a team to work well together."

Fugo looked down, not wanting his expression to betray his feelings. He wasn't exactly comfortable with Narancia going on a mission that could last anywhere up to a week without him, especially with two other men who he knew were at least half as interested in Narancia as he was. Moreover, he was genuinely concerned for Narancia's safety and in turn, his own sanity. He knew he would worry himself to the point of loosing sleep. Still, he could not object to Bucciarati's orders.

Abbacchio spoke up, being the only other member in the group older than 18, he felt confident enough his superiority to interject when he felt it necessary. "Relax Fugo, we'll take care of the kid. You always overthink. He might not look that bright but if he was able to pass Polpo's test, he should be able to stand on his own two feet. We'll bring him back in one piece."

Mista added his thoughts as well, "Yeah, I swear on my Pistols we won't let nobody touch a hair on, uh, his, head." The gunman stared at Narancia while he said this, still not convinced that the new member wasn't female.

"I think that just about concludes it then." Bruno turned to Abbacchio and Mista. "You two can go along ahead, I have some business with Fugo I want to discuss, regarding the task I have for him. Narancia, I'll give you today to get some things together and have Mista pick you up tomorrow, if that suits you." Narancia nodded, still not saying anything.

Abbacchio and Mista obeyed, getting up from their seats and setting out to leave the three alone in the kitchen. Mista waved at Narancia, "See ya tomorrow kid."

Once the others were safely gone from the premises, Bruno spoke. "Do you want to talk here, or?" He motioned to Narancia, who was looking at them wide eyed, unsure of what to do in this situation. "It's fine here. It involves him as well, after all." In way, Fugo was glad that Bucciarati had picked up on his uneasiness, but now he was stuck with trying to broach a very delicate topic.

Thankfully, Bruno spoke first. "Something happened between you two, didn't it? I suppose it was only a matter of time. You were practically bleeding chemistry, although you both seemed oblivious of it up until recently. I didn't ever think I'd have to help out two teenagers with this kind of thing, most figure it out on their own." He smiled, trying to break some of the tension.

"You're not like most teenagers, though, are you? Fugo, you're unsure about how to proceed from here because you care too much about Narancia to risk having your desires go unchecked and risk hurting him or doing something before either of you are ready for it, is that right?"

Fugo nodded, "So, what do we do? I'm sorry I had to come to you for advice on something so personal, but you're right, I can't risk hurting Narancia." He said this with confidence, he could be honest with Bruno, and it was one way to convey his feelings to Narancia without directly confronting him.

Narancia shifted on his seat uncomfortably, a shade of red brushing across his face. "That depends on what you've done so far. Forgive me if it's inappropriate to inquire about such things, but I need to know in order to properly help you."

"Just…kissing, but its…how do we know we're not going too far and what do we do if…" Fugo couldn't bring himself to complete that sentence, he wasn't really sure how to word it without bring crude and further mortifying Narancia, who had already covered his face with his hands to hide his darkening complexion.

Bruno moved closer to Pannacotta, speaking more softly so that Narancia could safely block them out. "Keep doing that for now, allow yourselves to get close to and feel comfortable with each other." The older man breathed in and whispered into Fugo's ear, "If it gets too much, do what other teenagers your age do and, well…touch each other. I'm not going to tell you where and how because that would be over stretching my boundaries and I'm sure you'll be able to figure things out and guide Narancia appropriately. Just remember, try not to overthink, let your body and your heart tell you what you need to do. Think too much, and you'll make things more awkward than they need to be."

Fugo was the one blushing now. He was grateful for the advice, but not sure how to properly process the information he had just been given. "Don't worry, I won't leave you completely stranded, you're welcome to come to me again for this sort of thing in the future, but for now, just do what I suggested."

Bruno smiled, satisfied that he had given his underling just the right amount of information without revealing too much. He wanted to encourage the budding relationship between his two companions but did not want them to rely on him too much. "Well then. I best be off. Arrivederci." He waved as he walked off, leaving the two boys to themselves.

"I suppose we better go get you some things you might need for your mission." Fugo moved over to where Narancia was sitting, still covering his face with his hands out of embarrassment. "Hey…I know this is a lot, but I trust you, you'll do fine. You've come this far after all." Awkwardly, he moved to embrace Narancia, hoping to comfort him.

The smaller boy didn't resist, letting Fugo's arms wrap around him as he pressed his face into Fugo's chest. "It's, it's not that…I just…" Narancia squeezed harder, trying desperately to hide his embarrassment at what he wanted to say, struggling to form the words.

"Fugo...I'm scared about you not being there with me, when you're with me, I get all sorts of weird feelings but they're like, good feelings, you know?" Pannacotta's heart jumped, this was the first time that Narancia was expressing himself in such a way. He was relieved, he was afraid that the boy's feelings for him were purely physical, born out of a sudden sexual awaking that he had unwillingly been forced to experience.

"I uh, I know that Bucciarati said we should give ourselves time but…" Narancia's voice choked with coyness, "I kinda, I don't want to sleep alone tonight, Fugo…Maybe it's stupid, I'm in a gang now, but I am kinda nervous for the mission. I might hav'ta waste someone! I've never done that before, you know?" Pannacotta squeezed Narancia back, his hands moving to stroke his ebony hair in a way he knew calmed the boy.

"I don't mind, Narancia, if having me near you helps, you can stay in my room tonight." Narancia looked up, eyes wet, although Fugo was unsure from which emotion they came. "C-can, can we kiss some more? Tonight, I mean…It'll keep me from worrying too much." His face flushed, and he quickly retreated to the safety of the taller boy's chest once more.

'God, he is so adorable.' Fugo lifted Narancia's face by his chin, leaning over somewhat and tenderly pressed their lips together, his heart jumping at the small sound of surprise Narancia made. It was a slower, less desperate kiss than before, making both of their hearts swell with sheer contentment at their proximity to one another.

Fugo pulled away gently, still holding onto Narancia who blinked dazingly, forgetting his surroundings for a moment. "I still think we should go shopping, I don't want you to be unprepared…Maybe we should actually go out to eat too, in celebration of your first official assignment. What do you want?"

Narancia snapped back to reality at the mention of food, his demeanour switching from dazed to excited almost instantaneously. "Pizza! Thank you Fugo, you're the best." Narancia nuzzled into his partner's chest enthusiastically.

Narancia and Fugo spent most of the day picking up items that Fugo thought might come in handy for a job like the one Narancia was about to go on. Simple things, nothing of much particular interest, but a lot of snacks. Part of Fugo wanted to argue against the necessary of such things, especially on what might be an incredibly high stakes mission, but seeing how Narancia excited was at buying them, that idea died fairly quickly.

One thing he did insist on, was that Narancia buy a pocket knife for added personal protection. Abbacchio and Mista might have caught onto something by now and know that Narancia was off limits, but he doubted that the thugs they were sent to deal with would, especially given how easy it was to mistake him for pretty young woman.

"Huh? Do I really need this when I have my Stand? I dunno what kind the others have but sit should be enough to deal whoever is stupid enough to mess with us?" Fugo shook his head. "Your and Mista's Stand's work best from a longer range, up close, it helps to have something like this, just in case." Narancia shrugged, failing to find to find any flaws in Fugo's logic.

The two purchased the items, then found a nearby restaurant. It was still early evening, the sun not quite setting yet. Fugo chose an inside booth to allow for extra privacy between the two of them. Narancia ordered a margherita pizza topped with mushrooms, "Do you want to share? I can't really eat a whole pizza by myself."

"Really? With all those snacks you bought and all those pancakes you ate this morning? You surprise me." Narancia pouted, an adorable habit he seemed to have when offended by something. "I'm just teasing you, I don't have much of an appetite, so sharing is a good idea, thank you, Nara."

Narancia blushed at the newly coined term of endearment. Not looking Fugo in the eyes, he scooted closer, "I'm not that hungry either…I mean, I was, but…" His eyes darted around, making sure no one was watching them. "I keep thinking about…Urg, it's too embarrassing to say here!" Thankfully, by this time, the waiter had already left with their orders.

Fugo raised his eyebrows, wondering what Narancia meant by this, then, he realised that they had promised to stay together tonight. Maybe that had been subconsciously on his mind the entire time as well. His heart started to beat rapidly when he thought about having Narancia in his bed with him, clad in his pyjamas and he hoped to God he could control himself when the time came.

Wanting to distract himself and Narancia from this, Fugo raised a question he had always wondered about. "Hey, Nara, don't take this the wrong way, but…has anyone told you that you really look like a girl? Not that that's a bad thing of course, on the contrary, it's really appealing?"

Narancia looked surprised, he sat back, genuinely trying to think deeply about this inquiry. "Uh I guess when I was in juvey a lot of guys would just straight up call me a girl, say stuff like, 'why are you wearing boy's clothes, you'd look so much cuter in a dress'. Some would say they were gonna check, but I always beat them up if they got too close." He was quiet for a while, as if he had just realised something profound.

"Uh, do I really look like a girl? I never thought of it that way, like, I would get so confused when they would say stuff like that." Fugo shifted uncomfortably, hoping that he didn't offend Narancia, he almost regretted asking, still, he couldn't lie, not to him…

"I was, um unsure about your gender for a while, to be completely honest. You just, have really pretty facial features. Your eyes, for example, and your lips…" He blushed, this wasn't the sort of thing one should be saying in a public place.

Narancia had gone almost completely bright red, just as the waiter returned with their pizza, surely it should have taken longer than that? "Are you alright, uh…" The waiter stammered, not wanting to use the incorrect pronoun and upset the customer.

"He's fine. Thank you for the timely service." Pannacotta said with a hint of sarcasm, annoyed that his moment with Narancia had been cut short and growing increasingly nervous as the reality of what faced them when they got home began to set in further. "Could you bring us the bill as well, please?"

Fugo and Narancia arrived back at the villa with a sense of silent excitement filling their hearts. Neither of them was really sure what would happen with both of them spending the night in the same room, in the same bed. Neither of them was sure about what to do or expect, but they longed for it regardless.

Narancia broke the silence when they reached the upstairs corridor that separated their bedrooms. "Uh…I'm going to get changed really quickly then I'll meet you in your room when I'm done. That ok?" He was blushing, glance cast aside from Fugo. Neither of them was quite sure they were ready to get undressed in front of each other just yet, but they weren't sure how to bring up the topic, so Fugo was glad that the slightly older boy spoke first.

"I'll do the same. See you soon, Nara." Panncotta entered his room, closing the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment to get his bearings. The thought of having Narancia alone with him in the private recesses pf his bed chamber was enough to get him excited. 'Calm down, Pannacotta Fugo, or you'll scare him away.'

He began to remove his suit, folding it neatly as the pieces came off, until he was clad in his signature black thong. 'I wonder what kind of underwear Narancia wears...' He pondered, then remembered he had selected those too. Little orange boxers…Fugo cussed, cutting off that line of thought. Even someone as dense as Narancia would notice if he became aroused this quickly.

Fugo donned his pyjamas – a tank top made of lightweight, breathable material with a large picture of a stylised strawberry and long pants in a plush material, little strawberries dotting the fabric.

Not long after this, he heard a knock on his door. Hastily, he moved to open. In the doorway stood a sight so unworldly adorable that Fugo swore he forgot to breath.

Narancia had cast away his gaze in coyness, his olive skin flushed, more exposed than usual. Fugo gulped. Narancia was wearing a t-shirt of similar material to his, with a large picture of an orange printed in the same stylised manner as Fugo's strawberry – it was almost a matching set, expect…

Narancia's pyjama bottoms were shorts, spotted with little oranges in the same way as the strawberries on Fugo's pants. One could easily tell however, by the cut and length of the shorts and the way the t-shirt clung to his upper half, that it was a set of pyjamas meant for females – conscious decision Fugo made while picking it out.

Fugo was again struck by feminine Narancia looked, especially with more of him on display. Those legs were not ones you would typically find on a man. Though Narancia was shorter than Fugo, his legs were long and shapely in a way that both clashed and complimented his more developed upper body.

Fugo couldn't speak, only act. He pulled the older boy towards him, pressing their bodies and lips together. Fugo was sure that Narancia must have been aware of Fugo's steadily growing hardness poking into him, but he was too caught up in the kiss to care.

It was all experimental, a culmination of their pent-up desire for one another. Fugo tried to lead as best he could, remembering what Bucciarati had told him. Narancia had a sweet, citrus taste to him, Fugo thought as their tongues slicked together and he sucked down on the boy's luscious lips.

It was messy, hazy, somewhere in it all, Fugo had pushed Narancia back onto his bed, pressing himself into Narancia feverishly. After what seemed like ages of them moving their lips, their tongues together in different ways, Fugo broke away from his partner gently, his head spinning from the state of raw desire he was in, a trail of silvery salvia stringed briefly from where their mouths had been attached just moments before.

Tears had welled up in Narancia's eyes as he choked out, his voiced musked with longing, "Fugo…all this kissing is really good but, I don't know how much more I can take…" His breath was ragged as he squirmed against his partner, trying desperately to release some of the erotic tension that had built up in his body.

"It's, it's throbbing so much, my-my m-mind doesn't want to work, p-p-please Panna." Fugo had felt it, the heat of Narancia's arousal pressed into him and amplified his own. "Me too, I'm afraid I'm not going to last like this…"

He sat up and broke apart from Narancia, now sitting directly across from him on the scattered mess that was his bed. "Can I touch you? I promise, if there's anything you don't like, I'll stop…" Narancia nodded, his face buried in his hands to try and take some of his embarrassment away.

Fugo moved his hands towards the boy, one creeping up to the edge of the pyjama t-shirt now wet with sweat. He could see Narancia's nipples poking out from the thin fabric, so hard and round, almost unnaturally large for a boys. He knew that Narancia was not a girl, especially when he had felt that part pressed so sensuously grinding into him just moments before, but he still felt moved by some kind of primal instinct to grab for that area.

Narancia's pectorals were surprisingly soft, subtle flesh yielding as Fugo caressed and prodded them, his fingers lightly pinching and squeezing Narancia's areolas, emitting a low moan in response from the boy.

"Are you alright? The last thing I want to do is hurt you…" His breath was low, and his touch yielded the moment he sensed any discomfort from his bed mate. Narancia shook his head, taking one of Fugo's hands, he began to move it downwards somewhat. "It's just, just making this part here even worse, when you tease like that…" He flushed, looking up at Fugo, hoping he would get the hint so that didn't have put what he wanted him to do to him into words, not that Narancia even knew if he could form them.

"I'm sorry Nara, I just get so caught up in my feelings when I'm with you. Thinking only of my desires…I want to feel all of you, is that what you want?" Narancia lent forward, closing to gap between them. His eyelashes wet with tears of embarrassment, he responded as best he could. "Y-yeah, I want that, I want to feel these things with you."

Fugo glanced down and noticed for the first time how large the bulge at the front of Narancia's shorts was. He knew what he needed to do in order to offer both him and Narancia relief but doing it to someone else was…different. He would have to bare all of that part in order to do it properly, but was worried it would be too much for Narancia, that maybe they were moving too fast, but it was too late to hold back now…

"Nara, I'm going to have to move somethings out of the way to do this properly…you ok with that? I, uh, I know it's a lot to ask, but I could use some help too…" He glanced away from Narancia as he said this, feeling his face redden.

"I love ya, Fugo. At least I think that's what they call this feeling I get with you…all warm and fuzzy like being wrapped in a blanket on a cold day, I just wanna feel good with you…" For the first time, he looked Fugo in the eyes as he said this, fighting against his embarrassment for the sake of reassuring his partner that he was ok.

"I want to make you feel good too, but I dunno how. You're going to have to guide me…" Sensing Narancia's uncertainty, Fugo brought his lips to Narancia's once more, the sweet emotion that filled them making them overcome with that same passionate haze, allowing them to trust their primal instincts once more.

Fugo moved his hands over to the hem of Narancia's shorts as they kissed, finding it, he quickly rolled them down just enough to relieve Narancia of some of the tension caused by being confined by the now heavily restricted fabric. He assumed he tugged the boxers down with them, as Narancia made a sigh of relief at being freed from his restraints.

Fugo's hands quickly found the object of their search. Eye's closed with being wrapped up in the kiss, he couldn't see, but rather felt the hard, pulsating length one now contained. It was slicked with some kind of liquid, a lot of it. Poor Narancia must have really been suffering. He moved towards the base, not making any further motions yet.

Briefly, he broke apart the kiss to free himself of his own constraints, whispering into Narancia's ear as he did so, "Don't worry about having to look, just follow what I do, ok?" He could feel a throb of excitement coming from the other boy's appendage, neither of them was going to last very long.

Slowly, he moved Narancia's hand over to his erection, it too being practically dripping with pre-cum from the heat of their kisses and touches. He almost lost it right there, really, he had not expected them to be so damn soft, like sinking into some warm fleshy pillow.

Fugo started to pump, his free hand over Narancia's, guiding him. Quickly, the heat and pressure grew as the throbs furiously intensified. Narancia was moaning, loosing himself in every movement of Fugo's touch.

He could feel himself loosing it as he gazed astounded at the beautiful lewdness of Narancia's pleasured face, drool forming of the edge of his plump lips, his long eyelashes fluttering as he felt his climax approach.

They continued to move their hands in circular motions, up and down, for a few more motions, before Narancia cried out,

"Fugo, something is coming! Its gonna come owwwut!" Watching Narancia orgasm pushed him over the very narrow edge he tendered on. He felt the heat swell and throb as he spilled into that beautiful hand, covering his own in the expulsion in the progress.

They sat in a blurry haze for a moment, their hearts taking a moment to speed down properly. Realising the mess they must have made of themselves, Fugo quickly forced himself to snap awake and grab for a box of tissues on the nightstand next to the bed.

He wiped them both off as best he could, somewhat embarrassed by the sheer amount of the white liquid he had produced. Narancia stared at his soiled hand for a moment, generally perplexed by this strange stuff that had come out of them.

Once they were cleaned up, sleepiness began to set in. Fugo pulled Narancia close and snuggled into him, taking in the scent of his hair as Narancia looked up at him with eyes blurred by fatigue and emotion. "Did that help take your mind off the mission?"

Narancia blinked, taking a second to respond, his face flushed, "yeah, I'm not worried any more, knowing I have you to come back to, that's gonna help me pull through. Thank you, Pannacotta Fugo."

Fugo's eyes welled up with tears at hearing those words. Narancia was his precious gem, something that he could always think of and be filled with warmth. He squeezed the smaller boy and planted a tender kiss on his forehead. "You have no idea that means to me, thank you, Nara."

The two boys smiled as they ebbed off into a restful sleep, swayed to sweet dreams by the presence of the one who made their heart swell with happiness.


	6. Sweet Emotion

Purple Haze Feedback: Slight Return

Chapter 6: Sweet Emotion

Daylight came far too quickly, the bright rays of the sun seeping through the window, casting a harsh glare in the direction of the two boys held tight in a comfortable embrace. Fugo awoke first, at some point in the evening, the two had ended up in a spooning position, Narancia pressed snugly into his partner, his dark hair a soft, feathery down against Fugo's neck.

Fugo lay quietly beside him for a while, not wanting to disturb his bed mate, who was slowly stirring. He remembered the lyrics to the song that had played on the radio, on the day they first spend together…

'I could stay awake just to hear you breathing

Watch you smile while you are sleeping

While you're far away dreaming

I could spend my life in this sweet surrender

I could stay lost in this moment forever

Every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure'

Incredibly cheesy, a bit stupid even, but Fugo felt they applied now more than ever…

Narancia yawned, now finally at least somewhat lifted from his deep slumber. "Aw man, is it morning already?" He shifted and gently turned around so that he was facing Fugo, his eyes still heavy with sleep. "I don't wanna get up, you're so warm." He snuggled into Fugo's chest, making him sigh in response.

"I could stay in bed with you all day, Narancia…but Bucciarati did give you an order." He kissed his forehead, trying to gently pry himself apart from the smaller boy. He knew that if he stayed pressed against him like this, his softness and his sweet scent overwhelming his senses, he would be helpless to protest.

"It's a big day for you, Nara, we need to start it off right." Narancia pouted, looking away unhappily, "Fine. I did agree to the mission after all, I just dunno why you can't be on it. I know Bucciarati said he had other stuff for you, but…"

Pannacotta pressed his lips against Narancia's, the unexpectedness of it shocking the boy into silence, after a few seconds, they broke apart. "Purple Haze isn't good in confined spaces…which you might find yourself in. It's safer for me not to be with, as hard as it is for me to be apart from you…"

Narancia sensed Fugo's unease when mentioning his Stand, and reluctantly realised his grip on him. "It's ok. Like I said yesterday," blushed and looked away, remembering how he had lost himself in Fugo's touch. "I uh, I'll be ok…I'll be thinking of you if I get scared so…"

Fugo couldn't help but smile at how adorably innocent Narancia was acting, even after everything they did together last night. He sat up, pulling Narancia into a sitting position with him, and squeezed him tightly. "Yeah, I know. You'll send them all flying. I'm proud of you, Narancia."

Mista arrived about two hours later, giving the boys time to properly ready themselves. "What's up kid? You ready for this?" He seemed relaxed, excited even, like this was just a run of the mill job. Fugo however, still had his doubts. It was odd that Bucciarati had said so little about what was actually involved, other than tracking down some "thugs", who even he didn't seem to know anything about. Despite being referred to as "small fries", Fugo had a suspicion they might be more dangerous than Polpo had let on, if they needed three Stand users to go after them.

"Yeah! I was born ready!" Narancia obviously wanted to make a positive impression, it was bad enough that his fellow squadron members might have mistaken him for a woman, he had to show them that he was just as much a man as the rest of them. "I'm not a kid though, I'm 17! So, you better watch yourself!"

Mista laughed, pleased that his new team member's mood seemed to have picked up since yesterday. He liked this "kid", and not just because he was still convinced they were a cute tom-boy…

"Yeah, yeah. Just don't let Abbacchio hear you say stuff like that, he's a bit of an old grump, especially since Bruno isn't running this with us." Narancia was confused by the mention of Bucciarati, especially the casual way Mista spoke of him, but didn't bring it up.

Fugo awkwardly moved towards them. He wasn't sure what was the most appropriate way to send Narancia off, especially with other people around. Thankfully, Narancia must have noted his uncertainty and figured out how to put him at ease, as he moved to hug him, catching him slightly off guard.

He was embarrassed with Mista in the room with him but fought against it. Slightly red faced, Narancia gave Fugo's midsection a quick squeeze before he quickly broke apart, ignoring Mista's stunned silence. "I better go, the sooner I can kick these guy's asses, the sooner I get paid. I still owe ya for the stuff you got me. See ya soon, Fugo."

Abbacchio was in the car waiting for them, tapping his foot nervously on the peddles, eager to get going. "What took you too so long? Was Fugo not willing to let the brat go?" Narancia flushed again, which earned a laugh from Mista in response.

"Nah, more like Narancia wasn't willing to let Fugo go." Abbacchio rolled his eyes, sorry that he had even asked, he motioned to Narancia, who was still stunned with abashment. "Don't pay any attention to him kid, just get in, I want to get this over with as soon as possible."

Narancia was silent for much of the drive down to their hide out for the mission, a bit of a dump of a motel, situated near a pier warehouse in the area Bucciarati suspected things were going down. Mista was jabbering something about how he was sorry that they all had to stay in one room together, saying to tell Fugo that it was necessary for them to not be split up in case of an attack.

Narancia wanted to plug in his earphones and get his portable cd player out, anything to distract him from Fugo's absence. He began to realise how at ease he felt with the blond boy near him, but he had promised Fugo that he would do his best, try and get on with the other members of the gang, so he did his best to shrug off these feelings and focus on the mission.

"It's chilled Mista. You do know I'm a boy, right?" This admitted an uneasy look from the gunman, who Narancia was sure he saw a blush creep up the face of. "That's not it…It doesn't really matter if you're a dude or not, you're…"

"Easy there Guido, knowing Fugo he'll sniff you out even from out here if you say stuff like that. I'm happy for him though, maybe having something he cares about will make him control that God damn temper of his a bit better…"

They were out of the countryside now, a bleak grey industrial environment slowly taking over. This only served to make the group more uneasy, nothing that went down in a place like this was ever anything good. A dirty ruddy red neon sign flickered, indicating that they had arrived at their destination.

Narancia got out the car first, a sense of primal wariness filling him as his eyes darted around, scanning for those who might be in the area with them. "Yo, you guys want me to bring out my Stand, make sure we're not being followed?"

Abbacchio shook his head. "Let's just get inside, if they attack is in here we at least don't have to go through the trouble of tracking them down." He put his hand on Narancia's shoulder. "I know you're worked up with it being your first gig and all, but the key with these kinds of jobs is not to act too impulsively, think before acting."

When they entered the motel, Narancia understood why it had been described as it was by Mista, a dump. Untidy, unkept with sparse furnishings, it wasn't too terribly dirty, but certainly not somewhere you would want to stay for too long. Having lived on the streets for as long as he did though, he supposed that he wasn't exactly the best person to judge.

The receptionist took very little note of them, simply nodding and gesturing to indicate where their room was, straight down the hall. It didn't seem like anyone else was staying here, judging by the odd silence that seemed to permeate the place, stuck like the dust gathered on the slightly peeling wallpaper.

The room itself was small, just as Spartanly decorated as the rest of the place. The only furniture it contained where three single beds, a nightstand next to each one, a phone on the nightside closest to the left side of the room, a sofa and a coffee table, as well as ram shackled closet. The light of the ensuite bathroom flickered dimly.

Abbacchio gently put down the bag he had slung around his shoulder, pulling out a thick, clunky laptop, he pressed one of the buttons on its side to boot it up, explaining while he waited for the hardware to whirr up into action, "I believe Bucciarati managed to dig up some information on these guys for us, but probably didn't want to scare us off, especially you Narancia, or rather, Fugo."

Narancia grew irritated by this, they had no right to speak behind Fugo's back, or doubt the faith he had placed in him. Abbacchio noted this, "Relax, I didn't mean that in a bad way. I have no doubt that Fugo trusts you to get the job done, he would have never let you go on this mission or even join the gang if he didn't. I just mean that Fugo obviously cares for you and he has a habit of being, intense…Damn kids, no wonder you two get on so well."

Narancia scowled, choosing to ignore that comment for the sake of professionalism. He waited, slowly becoming more impatient, as the eldest member clicked away on the compact computer, his expression changing from that of steely calm to genuine shock.

"Shit! I knew something was up, these aren't your run of the mill thugs…Check this out." Mista and Narancia huddled around the laptop, panic growing as they read the profiles.

Stand Users, all three of them. No faces, or details on what exactly the Stand's abilities were, just the names of the Stands and their users, a brief description of their personalities and ages.

'Tallarico Stephano, 32, Stand – [Walk This Way], impulsive personality, ring leader of the group. Chitarrista Tagliolini, 27, Stand - [Crosstown Traffic], calm, rational and possessing high levels of intellect. Zucca Torta, 24, Stand – [Smashing Pumpkins], silent, prone to bouts of melancholy, youngest of the group.'

Not too far away, in an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts, three men where gathered. These were the Stand users mentioned in the document sent by Bucciarati.

Tallarico, a tall, lanky man with long white hair down to his waist, paced up and down in a state of jittery panic. "Man, I knew something was up. Fucking higher ups must have caught onto us somehow and sent some dogs after as, probably fucking Stand Users too. Did one of you fuckers rat me out, huh?"

Chitarrista the second member, a calm rational dark-skinned man sighed, he didn't seem to understand his partner's state of disarray. "Talla, why would we rat you out man? We're the same as you, fed up with the restrictions placed on us by our boss, we just wanted a piece of the pie. So badly we followed a loose cannon like you way out here."

He turned and looked at the third member of the group, "Yo, Zucca, you got any info on these guys?" Zucca looked up from his laptop, like Chitarrista, he was level headed, logical, most of the time, when he wasn't falling into drug fuelled bouts of depression. "Mhm. Yeah, wasn't hard to score data on these guys…Polpo's lacky, Bucciarati has a little group of his own, let's see…"

He pulled up the data file, unlike the one Bucciarati's gang had on them, it was full of information. Names, Stands, Stand abilities, photographs, backgrounds… "Thankfully for us I think its just a few of them, not Bucciarati or Fugo, thank God, their Stands sound like a pain to deal with."

Tallarico nearly shoved Zucca out of the way to get a better look, almost dropping the laptop in the process. "Aw shit they sent Mista, fuck! That ex-cop seems pretty harmless, but that beanie wearing faggot and his Stand can control fucking bullets, we're done!"

Chitarrista placed a hand on Tallarico's shoulder. "Chill man, if we get them outside, your Walk This Way can lead them into My Crosstown Traffic, run them over, easy. Zucca's Smashing Pumpkins is great for keeping them contained too."

Zucca smirked, enjoying the idea of trapping their pursuers in the cage Smashing Pumpkins manifested as, slowly crushing them to death…" I can get the Rat to chew on them a bit as well if you want, get them to tell us some trade secrets." He said in reference to his Stand's second ability, spawning rats within the cage, even several of them if he really wanted, to torture his enemies by slowly gnawing away at their flesh.

"Going a bit far there man…I think we should just have Talla's Walk This Way force them into my Crosstown Traffic, kill them nice and quick, that way we know that job is done. I don't like unnecessary violence." Tallarico scoffed. "Got into the wrong fucking profession then, huh? Your Stand is pretty fucked up if you think about it, you control fucking CARS! Make them shrink, make them move, several at a fucking time. Meanwhile, my piece of shit Stand literally just leads people into danger zones, fucking boring."

Zucca interjected, "Make them move towards anything dangerous…that's pretty sick, poetic, like your own self-destructive nature leads you towards trouble, like you've led us all towards trouble." Tallarico snapped, grabbing Zucca by his shirt, hoisting him up, "You both followed me here, so don't give me that shit! I'll send your bald ass straight into the fucking ocean and have you fucking drown!"

Chitarrista ignored his companions as he scrolled down the profiles, spotting one he hadn't seen before. "Yo, did you notice that there's a new member here? Looks like a babe as well, what a shame…"

The pair stopped their scuffle and redirected their attention back to the laptop. "Holy shit, you're right! Narancia Ghirga…When did they start letting women in? Not that I'm complaining…I'm gonna have some fun with her before I wipe them out."


	7. Little Wing

Purple Haze Feedback: Slight Return

Chapter 7: Little Wing

Narancia was curious, he wondered if it was normal to receive such vague information about people they were supposed to go after and if they were Stand users, why did they send a section of the gang that usually dealt with escort missions to take them out? Why not someone a bit higher up? He voiced these concerns, getting a sombre response from Abbacchio.

"They probably are just thugs, too low rung to warrant much information being complied on them. The leader, Tallarico, probably got frustrated with the slowness or just generally lack of progress in moving up and got together a few likeminded individuals."

Mista held his head in his hands, clearly distressed by the reality that this wasn't going to be just some run of the mill job. The thugs they were going to have to deal with may have been low rung, but they were armed with Stands whose abilities they had no idea of.

"So, what do we do now? It's not dark yet, should we try and see if we can spot any sign of these guys, get some idea of who we're dealing with at least?" Mista fingered the trigger of his gun nervously as he waited for Abbacchio's response.

"Let's go and see if we can dig up some more information…Moody Blues might be able to give us an idea of what they look like at least. This Tallarico seems like the type who enjoys quick, easy pleasures. There's a bar not far from here, if I can use replay there, we might get him." He motioned to Narancia, looking at him steely, "You're going to have to come with us. Don't worry, you're close enough to an attractive woman that they won't bother asking for ID, no offense."

Narancia huffed, he did take offense to this of course, hearing anyone but Fugo comment on how pretty he was seemed like an insult. It wasn't like he asked to be constantly mistaken for a girl, if anything, it was troublesome. "Fine, but you better not make me do anything weird…"

Mista spoke up, feeling like he needed to inform the naïve youth about somethings, "Hey, if anyone offers to buy you a drink, absolutely refuse, tell them to fuck off if need be. Any scene out here is bound to be dodgy as hell, drinks probably come pre-spiked."

Narancia had no idea what Mista was talking about, but the others seemed to be treating him like they would some child. This irritated him further, he wasn't so clueless that he needed to be told not to accept drinks from some weird guys. He knew Fugo would want him to be amicable though, tell him that they were just looking out for him, so he rolled his eyes and said nothing.

"Mista, this goes without saying, but let's not tell Fugo about this if we can get away with it. If he finds out that we exposed the whelp to this kind of thing, he'll set Purple Haze on our asses, no questions asked." The gunman gulped and nodded, hoping that Narancia wouldn't squeal on them either.

The group arrived at the dive-bar about a half an hour later. It not yet being evening; the place was almost empty. A few patrons huddled around the grimy bar area or at the worn-down pool tables, dead silence hanging in the air as they stared emptily into their glasses. They seemed rough, but not the rowdy sort at least, just wanting to enjoy their drinks in peace before the livelier assortment slowly trickled in.

Abbacchio headed towards the bar, certain that that's where a character like Tallarico spent most of his time, washing away his meager earnings. Mista and Narancia followed behind him, one of the patrons throwing out a woof whistle at the latter, which earned him the finger in response.

Abbacchio took a seat on one of the stools, trying his best to seem casual. The non-Stand users among them wouldn't be able to see Moody Blues, but there was a small chance that the thugs they were after could be in attendance and he needed to be ready if they were. Mista and Narancia followed suite. "Bartender, I'll have a whiskey, make it a beer for my friend here," he motioned to Mista. "And an orange juice for the other one."

The scrawny man behind the counter motioned for payment before serving them, Abbacchio slipping him something extra to look the other way. When their drinks arrived shortly after, Leone muttered softly under his breath. "Moody Blues, replay from last night, around 12pm at least, whoever stands out the most."

Moody Blues' form began to manifest, taking its original form and then shifting, its signature sound playing as it did. It changed into man who most certainly stood out. Tall, incredibly lanky, strikingly white hair ran all the way down to his hips. He wore ragged, torn denim jeans, a matching denim sleeveless denim jacket, over a baggy t-shirt with some kind of winged logo. He was downing back shots, several of them. Abbacchio paused the replay.

"Pretty sure that must be him…doesn't look like too much of a threat but looks can be deceiving." He found himself gazing at Narancia as he said this. He was alert, looking far too jittery for a place like this, the patrons were beginning to notice, drawn in by his feminine allure. Abbacchio suspected that this was not the type of place that saw much willing female attendance. At least, no women that came even close to being as refined and delicate in their features as Narancia, with long, curling eyelashes that struck you from across the room. Radiating a fierce sense of defiance that begged to be tamed…

"Yo, quit staring and let's get out of here before they realise something's up. We know what at least one of them looks like now, so we can search properly tomorrow."

Abbacchio dismissed Moody Blues, but something in his general posture told Mista that he wasn't done yet. He was right, Leone quickly began to question the bartender, trying to pry him for information about Tallarico, sliding him some more cash as he did so.

"Yeah, I know that guy. Comes around here a lot, two other guys always following him around. He's been causing us a bit of trouble, trying to shake us down for protection money. We're too much of a blip on the radar for the mafia to take interest but I couldn't say no. When I told him to fuck off, something weird happened to me…I started, moving on my own, ending up walking almost straight into a head-on collision with a speeding car in the parking lot."

As the bartender spoke, Mista moved closer to Narancia, trying to ease his nerves a bit, take some of the attention away from them. "Yo, Narancia, it might sound weird but, just let me put my arm around you, ya? I think it might be a good idea for us to act like we're a couple, just for pretend, ya know?"

Understandably alarmed by this, Narancia took a step back into the bar, almost knocking over his still full glass of orange juice in the process. "What?! No way! Why the hell would you even suggest that?!"

Mista flushed a bit, turning around so that he was directly facing Narancia, he spoke low, into Narancia's ear so that no-one else could hear, "Because, in case you haven't noticed, those guys over there are totally eying you out. We don't want them to come over here and overhear the little conversation between Abbacchio and the bartender, do we? Most guys back off when they see someone's taken, aren't willing to risk a fight."

Although uncomfortable with this, Narancia couldn't argue with Mista's logic, he nodded, letting the gunman casually drape his arm over his shoulder, noticing the men who were adamantly gazing at him just moments before slowly loose interest. He wished Fugo were here, no one would dare even look his way with him at his side.

"I'm sorry about this. Please don't tell Fugo, he'd kill me for sure. You guys are an item, right? Just making sure, gotta look out for my buddy." Narancia flushed, shaking Mista off and grabbing the glass of orange juice, drinking it quickly in the hope that it would cool him down.

Having gathered all the information he needed, Abbacchio had finished talking. He stared in bewilderment at Mista, Narancia now a blushing, stammering mess because of him. "What the fuck Guido, what did you do to the kid?" Mista shrugged, trying to act innocent as he drank his beer. "You know what? I don't even want to know. Let's just get out of here. I think I know where these guys are, but I'm not sure I want to take them on just yet…"

Back at the hotel room, the three had all slumped onto their respective beds, hard, lumpy mattresses covered by scratchy duvets in a kitsch geometric pattern. Abbacchio had taken the laptop out again and was rapidly typing what the others assumed must have been a message to Bucciarati, updating him on their progress.

"So, where are these guys hiding out?" Mista asked in-between bites of the candy Narancia had brought with, having finally convinced him to share after what must have been at least five solid minutes of begging. Leone didn't respond at first, being too absorbed in his current task, after about another minute of typing, he spoke.

"In an abandoned warehouse nearby. It's near a road and has a parking lot off to the side. I'm mentioning this because from what that barkeep told me, there seems to be some kind of weird synergy with Tallarico and another member of his team, Chitarrista, something to do with their Stand abilities I'm guessing. Not much info on the other guy, Zucca. Seems to just keep to himself and mope in the shadows."

Satisfied with the message he sent, receiving confirmation from Bruno that they should stick to Abbacchio's strategy and keep up the good work, the former police officer packed his laptop away, stretching out and motioning to Mista. "Turn the lights off. We'll tackle these guys first thing tomorrow, for now, let's just try and get whatever rest we can on these piece of shit beds."

Guido rolled his eyes but complied, reluctantly getting up and switching off the wall light as requested. He and Narancia were silent for a while, waiting for their senior member to fall asleep. Sensing no movement from the bed at the far corner, Narancia spoke up quietly, his voice hushed. Thankfully, Mista's bed was close to his, so he didn't have a problem hearing him. "Yo, Mista, psst."

Mista rolled over onto his side so that he was directly facing his teammate, "Hm, what's wrong kid, can't sleep? Too busy thinking about Fugo?" He smirked, watching as Narancia's face lit up in the dull light that remained.

Narancia shifted awkwardly, he was thinking about Fugo. There were so many things he didn't know, so many new feelings he was experiencing, so many questions he wanted to ask. Somehow, he felt that his new friend might have at least some of those answers.

"Um…It's really embarrassing but ah, you're right, about Fugo and me." He looked down at his hands, nervously stringing them together as he struggled to find the words to form what he wanted to ask. "I uh, I don't know much about what two people, you know…do together."

He gulped, scared that Mista would belittle him for being so childish, instead, the gunman flushed a bit, stunned by how cute he was when he was being shy like this. "Ahh, damn. Fugo finally got someone huh? Good for him. As for what you do together…" He got up from his bed and moved over to the edge of Narancia's, instantly putting the boy into a defensive stance.

"Relax, I'm not gonna do anything to ya, I just figured you wouldn't want gramps there to overhear us." Still suspicious, Narancia scooted closer, making sure not to drop his guard. "You guys must have done something, right?"

Narancia went even redder than before and practically curled into a ball. After a few moments of this, with Mista struggling to keep himself from laughing, Narancia lifted his head up slightly, his eyes wet with embarrassment.

"W-what do you do, after k-kissing and –"He paused again, struggling to form the words in his state of mortified abashment. "T-t-t-touching?"

Mista began to mirror Narancia's complexion, darkening as he tried to think of a way to tell the extremely naïve youth about the next step without sounding too crude and risking him imploding.

"Ahh well that's…um, you, you use your mouth to…" He was stunned, unsure of how to proceed. If Fugo found out he had been talking to Narancia about this kind of thing, he'd be dead meat.

A voice came from the other side of the room, groggy but tinged with amusement.

"Fellatio. You can ask Fugo what that means. He might be upset at first, but if you pull it off, I'm sure he'll forgive me."

Somehow, by some merciful gift of sympathy bestowed upon them by the universe, the group managed to sleep soundly through the night. Narancia had dreamt of Fugo, pretending to be enveloped in his warmth as he subconsciously tossed and turned. When he awoke, he was disappointed to have his happy illusion so harshly shattered.

They didn't waste much time, eating only because they felt they needed the energy for what was coming. Abbacchio went over the plan of action over their simple breakfast. Narancia would use Aerosmith from a distance to confirm the presence of life within the abandoned warehouse, then slowly enter to check what exactly the radar was picking up, rats and other vermin were a possibility in that sort of environment after all. Abbacchio and Mista would follow shortly behind him. Narancia wasn't exactly too fond of this idea, but he was determined to prove himself regardless.

The three drove down towards the area in silence, nervously geared up for action. When they arrived, Narancia bought out Aerosmith across the entrance from the dull redbrick building. As expected, green blips appeared, three of the several standing out more than the others.

Narancia nodded, giving the signal that he would begin to move in, his two teammates trailing behind at a distance. Abbacchio had thought about bringing out Moody Blues but decided against it as it would leave him venerable in an already precarious situation.

Moving quickly rather than carefully, Narancia darted around to the front of the building. Rats scattered out from around the side, the source of the extra blips, Narancia thought. At least one of the big blips was outside, but if they had seen him, the made no move against him. The door was open wide, as if they had been expecting an encounter. Narancia gulped, then walked through the entrance, goose bumps dimpling his skin.

The inside was as expected. Old boxes and containers lined the selves that stood upright, filling up a proportion of the large, open space. The sound of his shoes echoing as the hit the concrete floor made too much noise for Narancia's liking.

He stood in the centre of the building for a moment, his nerves flared, adrenaline pumping. Aerosmith hovered at his side, the blips remaining at the same spot, somewhere in the corners of the building, unmoving. He was prepared to strike the moment they did, however, the instant he saw one move, his body seized up, as if encased by some invisible force.

He began to feel it before he saw it. Cold pressing against his skin, then the pressure, the compression. His skin bruised and reddened, he tried his best to move but was powerless to do so as hard iron bars began to manifest, entrapping him. The two blips began to move closer, towards him.

Two men who must have been the thugs they were send after stepped out from their hiding places. One was bald, with a sadistic grin plastered on his face, excited by successfully having trapped his prey. The other, Narancia recognised instantly from Moody Blues' replay back at the bar – Tallarico.

The lanky man walked straight up to the bars which had now completely formed a cage around him, wrapping against his form and gradually constricting. Narancia cried out in pain as he swore he felt one of the bones in his ribs splinter. Tallarico cast a harsh glare back at his companion.

"What the fuck Zucca? I told you to go easy, for Christ's sake, you're going to flatten her at this rate! I told you I want to have fun with her first." The compression stopped but an even worse feeling began to pool at the pit of Narancia's stomach as he watched Tallarico bring up his hands and slip them through the bars. Those hands clasped down on his hips, slowly moving their way up, feeling Narancia's well developed stomach muscles, then groping clumsily around his pectorals. He felt sick, anyone other than Fugo touching him felt like the most base violation one could suffer.

"Ooh, you are a funky, funky lady, aren't ya? Bet you're real popular in your little Squad…" Cold and clammy, those disgusting hands had moved up to his face. The man who must have been Zucca leered at him from behind, he must have ignored Tallarico's instructions as Narancia swore he felt his blood flow begin to cut off, his eyes rolled up and his eyelashes fluttered as his conscious began to fade…

Then, suddenly, he heard a gunshot streaking through the air and felt the iron bars clamping down on him begin to dissipate. His eyes shot open to see that, to his surprise, it was Abbacchio who had fired the shot, not Mista. Police training had come in handy, after all.

Abbacchio breathed deeply, clasping his gun in both hands, he had it trailed on Zucca, whose shoulder was now bleeding profusely. Narancia took this opportunity to dart out of the way behind some of the empty crates, calling out Aerosmith as he did so.

Unfortunately, Tallarico was almost unnaturally fast, dodging out of the way of Aerosmith's rapid gunfire and heading towards the outside, a wounded Zucca following fast behind them.

"Fuck! I'm sorry kid, if I had know that guy's Stand was so fucked up I'd-"Abbacchio's apology was cut off. He grasped his head in pain, then started walking, moving against his own accord. Realising that his teammate was in danger, Narancia forced himself to fight against the sharp burning pain in his side as he rushed to help him.

Every step was agony, but somehow, he managed. Time seemed to freeze as he reached the outside. In slow motion, Narancia could see Abbacchio helplessly moving into the path of a speeding car in the road. He noticed that the driving seat seemed to be completely empty. A Stand?

Narancia snapped out of it. Not knowing what else to do, he sent Aerosmith flying straight into Abbacchio's side, knocking him out of the way. With horror, he saw the rapidly spinning propellers slice into Abbacchio's flesh, leaving a bad gash in his side. It was enough though, to prevent him from being struck by the other moving vehicle.

The third blip showed itself, a muscular, dark-skinned man with a look of pure annoyance on his face. Clearly, he was upset that his plan had been foiled. "Tsk, stupid kid. Now it's a real shame, that I'm gonna have to smash in that pretty face of yours with my Crosstown Traffic. Zucca, you got Smashing Pumpkins doing work on that other one, right?"

The bald thug nodded. Narancia could see that he had Mista trapped in the same cage he had been in just a minute or two ago. He recoiled with disgust as he noticed something that had not been in it before – rats. They were swarmed around his friend, sharp teeth flashing white as they dug into his flesh, Mista crying out in pain as he seemed to be slowly consumed by them.

It was far too sadistic, far too cruel. Abbacchio lay bleeding on the ground in front of him, clutching his side in an attempt to stem the bleeding. Guilt and fury swirled inside Narancia fiercely. He watched as his friend's eye's widened with fear.

"Narancia, watch out!" Abbacchio rolled to the side just in time and Narancia scooted away just as quickly as a car from behind the building sped towards them. The tires whirred with a loud screech as it turned, focused in on its targets.

"Talla, use Walk This Way to put them in my path!" The tall man spat angrily, then nodded, moving towards Narancia and Abbacchio, trying to get them in range. Narancia ran, pulling Abbacchio along with him as he did so, the adrenaline pumping through his veins dulling the pain of the injuries Smashing Pumpkins had inflected on him.

Walk this Way was too much of a threat to be taken lightly, but mercifully, it seemed to have a critical flaw in that it required the user to physically see its target as well as be a certain distance from them. Narancia would find someway to exploit this weakness, he had to.

He sprinted toward Zucca, eyes filled with rage as he watched Smashing Pumpkins begin to constrict more rapidly around Mista, starting to crush him as he began to cough up blood. Chitarrista's expression twisted into panic as he realised Narancia's plan. Shock muddied his thoughts. The sensible thing to would be to disengage Crosstown Traffic, but that would have taken a few seconds, not enough time to stop what was about to happen.

Chitarrista ran as fast as he could, zipping in front of the car. He tried to push Zucca out the way, but he was too consumed in the sadistic pleasure of watching his victim's suffering. Narancia coolly stepped to the side, not looking away as the car being controlled by Chitarrista smashed into him and Zucca, a loud, sickening crunch and the sound of crumpling metal ringing out into the air like the sharp toll of funeral bell.

Its user being killed instantly, Smashing Pumpkins vanished. No longer held in place but its restraints, Mista collapsed onto the ground, his skin badly bruised and covered in open gnaw wounds slowly oozing with blood. Checking with his radar, Narancia confirmed that his team mate was still alive, though unconscious.

Abbacchio was pale from blood loss. Weakly, he spoke up. "Good job kid. It's just that Tallarico bastard now, I'll let you do the honour."

Tallarico stared in shock, both his teammates, killed by one of their own Stands. He looked up from where their ruined remains were and looked straight into Narancia's eyes, a smirk creeping up his gaunt face.

"Come here, you flat chested bitch, Walk This Way!" Narancia felt the effects of the Stand overtake him, pulled in by the monstrous apparition that seemed to be pushing him forward.

"Dumb fucking bitch, you may have been able to take out my buddies, but you're screwed now. Walk This Way makes you move towards anything dangerous, and right now, I'm the fucking danger!"

Step by agonising step, Narancia was forced to move towards this disgusting excuse for a man. He didn't want to be anywhere near him, but before he knew it, he was beside Tallarico, his gangly arms wrapped around his small frame. A knife glistened as it pressed against the edge of his throat.

"It's a shame babe, you and I, we could have had a good thing going." Sensing Tallarico's hesitation, Narancia's eyes sparked with a fierce resolution. He could move freely, and did so, wiggling around so that he faced Tallarico, he batted his eyelashes, making a regretful expression.

This caught Tallarico off guard for a moment, but a moment was enough. In one swift move, he reached into the back pocket of his skirt, bringing out the pocket knife that Fugo had insisted he buy, and trust it straight into Tallarico's jugular.

"I'm a guy you fucking pervert!" Taking a step back, Narancia watched in satisfaction as Tallarico helpless grasped at his neck, bubbles of blood forming around the shaft of the knife as he struggled to breath.

"Aerosmith!" He cried out as the aeroplane whizzed into existence and began to fire rapidly, filling Tallarico with fist sized holes.

"VOLAVOLAVOLA! Volare Via!" He jumped back as Aerosmith dropped a bomb at his command, completely destroying whatever was left of Tallarico's body.

Somehow, Narancia's pocket knife was unscathed in the blast. He picked it up and held it to his chest, feeling his conscious fade.

The last thing he heard before he passed out were the loud whirring of sirens.


	8. Can't Stop Lovin' You

Purple Haze Feedback: Slight Return

Chapter 8: Can't Stop Lovin' You

The first thing Narancia saw when he woke up were the strangely familiar white walls of a hospital ward, the bright florescent lights stinging his eyes. He was brought back to when he had first met Fugo, his saviour. If it wasn't for him, he might have suffered the same fate as his mother or died of starvation before the eye disease progressed fully. It was true, that Bucciarati had paid for his treatment, but if not for Fugo, he would have never met the man.

Fugo…

"Narancia! Are you awake? I was so worried about you!" It was his voice. Narancia's eyes were still adjusting, but once the spinning in his head settled, he saw him. Pannacotta Fugo was in a chair next to his bed, his face full of relief as he leant forward to grasp Narancia's hands. He gripped them tightly, afraid to let go, Narancia could barely feel it though, his digits numb.

"Fugo, what happened? How long was I out for?" He tried to move closer to the strawberry blonde boy, but a sharp pain in his chest prevented him doing so. Glancing down, he noticed that underneath the blankets, his entire midsection was wrapped tight with bandages, as strikingly white as the rest of the room.

"Two days…the doctors said you had cracked several of your ribs, sever bruising, but thankfully, nothing more serious." Fugo's expression changed to one of fierce hatred towards the men who had done this to the person who meant so much to him. He forced himself to breathe deeply, desperately trying to control himself for Narancia's sake. His hands briefly moved away, and he clasped them together, rubbing his fingers over his knuckles to try and calm down.

Eventually, his anger abated. His hands moved back to Narancia's, then up, towards his face as he leant forward and pressed their foreheads together, needing to have him close to him. Narancia felt hot, wet drops falling onto his face. He wanted to embrace Fugo, as he had done to him so many times when was overwhelmed, but every time he shifted, his fractured bones stung and throbbed with pain.

Not wanting Narancia to hurt himself for his sake, Fugo pulled back and wiped the tears from his eyes, forcing a smile. "You were amazing though. You took all three of those guys out. Bucciarati said, if not for you, Abbacchio would be…you saved his life, Narancia."

The others, Narancia had remembered what bad shape they were in when he last saw them. "Are they ok? Abbacchio had a really nasty gash, Aerosmith might have saved him, but it did a lot of damage too..." He looked down, feeling guilty, if he had acted faster, maybe his friends wouldn't have gotten so hurt.

"Bucciarati is with Abbacchio now. He lost a lot of blood, but his condition is stable. They have the same blood type, so Bucciarati transferred some of his." Narancia felt somewhat relieved, but Fugo hadn't said anything about Mista yet. Narancia wasn't even sure if he had survived.

Sensing his partner's worry, Fugo spoke again. "Mista is fine. He woke up first actually, asking about you. The doctors were baffled though, at how he managed to get covered in bite marks. He has a couple of fractured ribs as well, like you. Typical crush wounds, but his willpower seemed to help him fight through the worst of them."

Fugo's mood shifted again, his eyes welling up with tears once more, but for a different reason this time. "I'm so proud of you Nara…you did so well, on your very first mission." Narancia's heart fluttered, his doubt and guilt washed away by Fugo's praise.

"How much longer do I have to stay here? I want to go home with you…hospitals make me feel weird." Fugo looked at him apologetically, moving forward again, he placed his lips gently against the smaller boy's, being careful not to get too close and hurt him in his body's injured state. As much as he wanted to hold him, to feel his warmth, he had to show some restraint.

He broke away from their brief kiss, he had been without Narancia for too long, and too much physical contact would be dangerous. "Another five days…The doctors say they need to monitor you for at least a week, and I agree with them, your health comes before both our feelings. Try and bear with it, this hospital has pretty flexible visiting hours, so I'll be with you as much as I can."

Fugo kept his promise, coming in for regular visits through out the week, spending hours at a time at Narancia's bedside. Most of this time was spent tutoring Narancia, who was surprisingly more focused than usual, the bare white walls of the unit and lingering smell of disinfectant providing very little distractions.

Some of the time though, was just spend talking, Narancia sharing his interests in music and comic books. Fugo preferred the classics in both mediums, while Narancia's tastes were simple, almost childish. His fondness for rap and hip-hop in particular, intrigued Fugo, who tried to listen to some on Narancia's portable CD player. He understood now, the source of his partner's colourfully vulgar vocabulary.

"Do you even know what half of these mean?" He had asked. Narancia, completely missing the implied jab at his lack of intelligence, shrugged. "Nah, not really, but they sound cool, especially when you're pissed at someone. Will you teach me?" Fugo steadily declined, his refusal making Narancia even more determined. "Aww come on, that's not fair! Why won't you teach me? Are they, like, sexual?"

Fugo flushed, looking away from Narancia as he blinked cluelessly. He was becoming bolder. "Some of them are…that way in nature. I might tell you some day, but this isn't the time or place for that!"

Narancia was flushed now too, sensing that Fugo had become flustered. He remembered the word Abbacchio had mentioned during their stay at the motel. He knew he might get Abbacchio in trouble for asking, but he couldn't help it.

"Hey Fugo, what's a, falliatino?" Pannacotta's face lit up almost bright red, Narancia had butchered the pronunciation, but he could decipher what he was trying to say. "Who taught you that word, huh?! Sounds a bit too complex for your rappers. Was it Mista? He's lucky he's so badly busted up or I'd put him in hospital all over again!"

Then, close to the date Narancia was meant to be discharged, Fugo had to go on a mission with Bucciarati. He had explained, that due to everyone else in the squad being effectively out of commission, Polpo had no choice than request them for an important escort assignment. Their capo had apologised for underestimating Tallarico and his group, reassuring them that, not only would he pay for their medical bills in full, he would also give them all a bonus for excellent performance.

During this brief period of about two or so days, Narancia found himself lost, with nothing to do than reflect on the past few weeks of life. How much everything had changed in such a short amount of time…he had a home now, a purpose, a way of sustaining himself, a family of sorts…

Of course, there was also the matter of the strange new feelings which had blossomed in his heart. He didn't really understand them, they were too complex for him, but he knew that they were good feelings at least. Fugo would protect him, help him learn the things about the world he had no idea of, guide him through his body's strange reactions and so much more. Of this much, Narancia was sure.

At some point during this period of self-reflection, Narancia received an unexpected visitor. Abbacchio, the large gash in his mid-section now mostly healed, had been able to leave his bed and walk around the hospital as he pleased. For whatever reason, he chose to wonder into Narancia's room, pulling out a chair at his bedside and taking a seat. A long stretch of time seemed to pass without the man saying anything, an awkward silence building between them.

Abbacchio broke it, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, causing the bandages wrapped around his stomach to crinkle and constrict, Narancia thought it must be painful, but Abbacchio showed no sign of it being so. "Sorry for coming here so suddenly, but, I, I just wanted to thank you again for," He looked away, clearly uncomfortable with expressing his emotions this way, of being venerable in front of some kid who probably wouldn't even appreciate it.

"Saving my life. I owe you, kid. I know Bruno came here and thanked you personally, but still…" Narancia wasn't sure what to say. It was a difficult thing to grasp, the fact that Abbacchio could have been killed if he hadn't acted out. He didn't even think of it at the time, acting purely on impulse. He didn't release the massive impact of preventing a death, even if doing so resulted in the injury of the survivor.

"You still there kid? I hope you didn't get brain damage from having your ribs busted somehow, not that there was much up there to begin with…" Abbacchio didn't wait for a response, leaning back into the chair and uttering a long sigh, his eyes closed as he attempted to relax.

"Of course, Bruno just had to go off on a mission and leave me here in this place with only two airhead teenagers to talk to…No, that's not fair of me to say, I know he can't say no to an order, and his resolve is something to admire, but…"

Narancia wondered if Abbacchio had forgotten that he was there with him, as he seemed to be talking to himself. Then, something clicked. Abbacchio was, uneasy without Bucciarati. He remembered how Mista had briefly mentioned that their comrade's mood was because of their leader's absence. Things were starting to add up. He knew he shouldn't ask, that it might be insensitive, but Narancia was never one to let things like that stop him.

"Hey Abba, how does it feel, to be in love?" Abbacchio stopped mid-ramble, genuinely stunned by Narancia's sudden, out of place question. Had all the blood he had lost made him hallucinate? How could someone as seemingly dense as Narancia figured something like that out?

"I…I'm not sure why you're asking me. You must know what it's like, you, you and Fugo…" He was in denial now, hoping that it was just a random thought that Narancia had decided to blurt out. Narancia was determined now though, once he got something in his head now, he became stupidly stubborn, too much for his own good…

"Nah-uh. I mean, I think I do, but, you're an adult Abbacchio. You and Bucciarati have probably been…I don't know what you call it, for a while now. I need to know, please…" Perhaps subconsciously, Narancia was making a pleading expression one could describe as puppy eyes. Abbacchio could feel his resolve cracking, he did owe the kid, after all…

"How the fuck did you…?" He took a deep breath, trying to think of what he could say that would satisfy Narancia while not giving away too much. "It's a difficult thing kid, especially to explain to someone like you, but…really, if I could try to sum it up, you feel safe with that person. Being with them puts them at ease and you want to…better yourself for their sake…" He said that last bit softly, his tough façade slipping slightly. It wasn't an easy thing for him, to talk about these things, but some part of him wanted to help the kid out, for him to be happy and free with his emotions in a way that he was deeply envious of.

"Do you get it, kid? Not too many tricky words in there for you?" Narancia ignored the jab, trying to think. His face lit up brightly, his joy at his realisation making him ignore his injuries as moved around excitedly. "Yeah! That's just how I feel with Fugo! He's really nice to me. I mean, you all have been, but…I don't know, I feel this weird fuzzy thing in my chest too. Fugo seems sad a lot, and can get angry fast, which I get, but, I wanna see him smile more…"

Abbacchio smirked despite himself. Fugo was a good kid who had a rough life, he did deserve to smile more. He knew Bruno would agree.

Narancia lost track of time thanks to the duration of his stay in hospital but was finally dismissed on what must have been a Sunday, judging from the lack of traffic on the roads as he drove back home with Fugo.

The worst of his cracked ribs had healed, but the doctor still suggested another week of bedrest, which made Narancia's heart sink in his chest. He hated having to keep still. Resting was boring, even if it meant he had more time to listen to the album collection he was slowly building up.

Worst of all, Fugo had insisted that Narancia sleep in his own bed for this duration. He had explained that he was afraid of not being able to keep his distance, that he would subconsciously reach out for and embrace Narancia while they slept, putting too much pressure on Narancia's tender bruised chest and causing him pain. He couldn't allow that, as much as it hurt him to be apart from him.

Fugo was an extremely devoted caregiver, Narancia gave him that much. Every morning, the strawberry blonde would get up early to make Narancia breakfast, even insisting on feeding him sometimes. Whatever Narancia needed, Fugo would do his best to provide, making regular check-ups to see how Narancia was doing. There were tutoring sessions, of course, but Narancia bore with them, not being able to move or fight back as Fugo did his best to teach him a variety of different subjects.

Finally, after what must have been one of the most frustrating weeks of his life, Fugo determined that it should be safe for Narancia to move around somewhat freely again, still insisting that he restrict the intensity and suddenness of those moments.

This also meant that Fugo trusted himself enough to get physically close to Narancia again, although the older boy could still sense that he was holding back somewhat as that abstinence of contact they had been experiencing resulted in one of their tutoring sessions being interrupted by soft kisses which gradually built to something more.

Just like the first time, Narancia thought. Same place, same sensation of the leather of the couch coolly pressing into his back as Fugo started to lose control and the kisses became more feverish. There was a gap of space between their bodies that drove Narancia crazy. He wanted Fugo to press himself into him like they had before, for his partner to envelope his smaller form.

Fugo pulled away slightly, breathing heavily as his chest heaved. He was suffering, and Narancia desperately wanted to help him. He hated being so clueless as to how he could do so…He remembered what Mista had told him about the second "step", the next "stage" of a physical relationship and wondered whether now would be a good time to ask.

"Hey…Fugo, I know you're scared that you might hurt me cause I'm not properly healed yet but," He tried to think about how he would be bring it up, Fugo would know it was one of the others who told him, but at the same time, he remembered that Abbacchio said Fugo would forgive them if he could pull it off, and he did really want to do something to show his gratitude for everything his friend had done for him…

"I uh, I heard from someone that, uhh…there's a way I can um, do something with my mouth? I don't know what they meant by that, but it's not kissing…Will you let me try?"

Fugo's laboured breathing ceased for a moment as he tried to process what Narancia was saying. He took a sharp intake of air, uncertain about which emotion he should be feeling. Part of him wanted to demand as to who exactly had told him such things, and why such a conversation had happened at all? What was the context and situation behind it?

On the other hand, he knew that he was being hypocritical. He and Bucciarati had a similar conversation during the time they spent together on their recent escort mission. He couldn't remember how exactly it had come up either, perhaps just purely out of boredom. Bucciarati had explained, in a surprisingly candid manner, what exactly the next "thing" was, since Fugo himself wasn't exactly sure. Having attended college at the young age of 13, he had overheard certain details from his fellow students…but knowing exactly how these things played out was a different matter entirely…

"Narancia, that's…" He gulped, he couldn't deny that he had been curious about what it would be like, for Narancia to do that, as hard as it was to even try imagining someone as innocent as him doing something so…

"That's a lot. I don't know if you'd be ready for something so…intense. I'm not sure I'm ready for something so intense. It might overwhelm you and I- "

He jumped, feeling the cool touch of Narancia's soft hands sneak through the holes in his pants suit. He was very aware of close Narancia's face was to that area, of how his body's reactions must have been showing. Seeing how the fabric had shifted and formed into a strange sort of firm mould seemed to fuel his curiosity even further, Narancia wasn't going to give up now. The bare flesh of Fugo's thighs felt warm and pleasing to the touch, making Narancia's already steadily beating heart accelerate further.

"I haven't been able to do…stuff with you for so long. You said you'd take responsibility, don't you remember? I wanna learn, so please teach me!" Seeing Narancia pleading with him made something in his heart snap. He was powerless to resist those bright purple eyes, framed by those gorgeously thick black lashes, shining with determination. The tears would come soon, too, if he didn't say something. He couldn't bare that.

"Y-you're right, but, I um, I'm not exactly experienced with this sort of thing, so my instructions may not be the best…I need to, get some things first though, wait here!" Narancia watched in confusion as Fugo ran off. Had he gone too far? He felt bad. Fugo did say that he might not be ready, that it might be too much…

A few minutes passed as Narancia stared down at the spot Fugo had been, melancholy beginning to set it. He was snapped out of it by the metallic sound of something being placed on the wooden coffee table. Narancia stared at it with even more confusion. A can of Fanta orange, what on earth was Fugo bringing one of those here for?

The other objects were completely alien to him. A small bottle of some clear liquid and a square shaped foil package. "Bucciarati, Bucciarati said I should get these, for when we…eventually did more of this sort of thing. A good lesson requires the correct tools. Um, where do I start?"

He was fumbling now, his voice different from the calm, clear, focussed, encouraging one he used when tutoring. Then again, this wasn't exactly a normal tutoring session by any means. Fugo composed himself and returned to his seat on the couch. "Do what you were doing before…when you put your hands through. Maybe move onto the floor in front of me, if you can."

Narancia ignored the dull throbbing in his ribs as he shifted his position, moving down from the sofa onto the wooden floor. The ground was hard against his knees but brushed off this slight discomfort for the sake of wanting to please his partner. He bought his hands up again, up through the holes in the sides of Fugo's pants suit, his palms pressing into Fugo's slightly bony hips.

"Good, you're doing really well so far, Narancia. You sure you want to continue? The next part is a bit…" Fugo bit his lip, the sight of Narancia on his knees in front of him, staring up at him as he waited for the next instruction, made his already engorged member swell even further.

Narancia's faced was splashed with a pinkish glow as he fought against his embarrassment. He was beginning to slowly understand what he might be doing. "I kind of…want to see it, if that's what you mean. I never saw it last time so…" He shifted, squeezing his legs together in a slight squirm.

"I'll help you with that in a moment, just…here, I need to do this part myself. If it's too much, tell me, and I'll stop." Fugo's hands dipped down towards his waist, Narancia staring on in anticipation as he did so. He reached for his belt, slowly unbuckling it as he waited for a response from the boy. Not getting one, he progressed to the zip of his fly, then finally, pushing the straining fabric of his thong aside.

He was bare, exposed in front of Narancia. He could feel the boy's hot breath on his shaft as he leaned forward to get a better look at it. Seeing the pale skin of the shaft and the soft pink of the head made Narancia squirm even more, his own part starting to throb as he struggled to process what he was seeing.

Fugo moved forward somewhat, reaching for the square foil packaging and clear bottled liquid, recognising how Narancia seemed to be desperately searching for some sort of release. He motioned to Narancia to spread his legs so that he could gain access, allowing himself a moment to feel the heat radiating out from the fabric of Narancia's trousers.

"Your going to have to do this part of it yourself, unfortunately, I fear I won't have proper control of my senses once we start. I can't help you with that, I'm sorry…" He said this as he undid Narancia's button and zipped down his fly, rolling down his boxers as he had done on their first night together.

He torn the foil packaging apart with his teeth, fumbling somewhat as he caught a glance of that part of Narancia. Even the bit that should have been the most masculine was oddly girlish, standing fully erect and twitching as he slipped the condom over it, feeling the familar shape of it as he encased it with his palm. Fugo held out one of Narancia's hands as he squeezed the clear liquid into it, feeling Narancia recoil a bit at the cold sensation as it slicked over his slender fingers.

"That's just to prevent a mess…Just ah, grasp it and move it up and down in a way that feels good. Like we did to each other that night, remember?" Eyes wet with arousal, Narancia nodded, moving the hand that Fugo had covered over to his length, gripping himself firmly at the base as he waited further instructions.

Fugo had to brace himself for what was coming next, about how he would word it in a way that was simple enough for Narancia to understand, yet not crude enough to put him off completely. "Now, you need to come closer, to the point where its almost completely against your face, then…" Fugo gulped, watching as Narancia seemed to be clenching myself tightly in anticipation. He swore he felt himself twitching in that part as the heat in his belly burned at the thought of having those luscious lips anywhere close to such a sensitive area.

"Lick it. Like you would an ice-cream that's melting and you want to stop from dripping all over your hands." Maybe not the best worded metaphor to use as he already felt so dangerously close to spilling before Narancia had even done anything to him, but it seemed to work.

Narancia brought his face up to Fugo's crotch, placing his soft flushed cheek against one of Fugo's bare thighs. He noticed how even the almost translucent dull blonde curls of Fugo's pubic hairs seem to give off a scent of strawberries. This combined with the imagery of a sweet vanilla ice-cream cone made his mouth water. He stuck out his tongue and began to lick Fugo around the base of his member, awkwardly at first, tasting the oddly pleasant taste of his partners' sweat and flesh, moving upwards as he closed his eyes and started to stroke his own hardness.

"Ahhh, Narancia, h-hang on for a second." Fugo gasped sharply as his breath cut through his teeth as Narancia's tongue reached the head of his penis. The gorgeous dark-haired boy opening his eyes to see something dribble down the slit, the soft dull pink of the glans now a bright red from the welling of blood it had received.

"L-lick around that, circle it with your tongue. Then, if you can manage, take it into your mouth, as much as you can. It might be difficult, but I'm going to make a mess if you don't…" Fugo began to shift his hips around, desperately wanting to stave off his peak for until he was inside that deliciously inviting mouth.

Remembering what Fugo had said about not letting the ice-cream drip, Narancia quickly caught the dribble of liquid that looked like clear craft glue with his tongue. It tasted strange, kind of bitter, what was this stuff? Narancia shook off those thoughts to try and focus at hand.

Dedicated to making Fugo feel the best he could, Narancia swirled his tongue around the bulbous crimson peak, he was somewhat clumsy in his movement, but Fugo felt that only adding to the enjoyment, the genuineness of them experiencing these new sensations together.

"N-now, please." Fugo's head recoiled with an erotic jolt as he watched Narancia open his mouth like he was at a doctor's appointment, waiting for the thermometer with an audible 'aaaahhh'. So bright, soft and pink were the insides of what Fugo could of Narancia's oral cavity, his inner cheek flesh looking like wet, inviting cushions.

Slowly, Narancia took in Fugo's length, taking time to adjust to the feeling of having a foreign object fill his mouth, reaching all the way to the back of his throat. Surprisingly, Narancia seemed to lack any sort of gag reflex, for which Fugo was grateful. The problem now, was lasting long enough to enjoy being encased in those impossibly hot and wet walls without instantly blowing his load.

"M-move your mouth up and down, try create a, ah, vacuum with it." Fugo struggled to speak, Narancia seemed to have some kind of natural talent for this, like his mouth was made just for him. He understood now, why the students at the university would go and on about 'getting head', interrupting his study sessions in the library. He could almost forgive them. God, Narancia was determined to extract everything he could, quickly adjusting to the bobbing and the beginning to enjoy the feeling of being continuously hit in the back of his throat.

Fugo wasn't sure if it was just because of his inexperience, but he could swear that Narancia had already mastered the art of the oral vacuum, sucking at the just the right pressure for it to be incredibly pleasurable, but not hard enough for it to be painful.

He dug his hands into the soft dark down of Narancia's hair, one gripping at the orange headband, knuckles white from the intensity as he tried to hold on, the heat within his depths now beginning to boil and bubble over.

He opened one of his eyes, his head hazy with passion, from beyond the blur he could see Narancia's closed in fierce concentration as he moved his hand up and down rapidly, reminding Fugo of their first intimate inexperience together. How bold he had grown since then, barely being able to look him in the eyes as they felt their bodies overcome by strange, exotic sensations.

Panic began to overtake him as he felt a pressure swell to the point of no return, he had to warn Narancia. "Nara, I'm –" He felt himself spasm before he could finish that sentence, the heat erupting out of him as he spilt into Narancia's mouth, eliciting a gurgled "mmmph" in response.

Narancia's body seemed to twitch and spasm too, his legs shaking as he gulped, swallowing the bitter load Fugo had ejected into him. A loud pop seemed to echo through the room as Fugo's still hard member was retracted from Narancia's mouth, the boy coughing as he tried to get used to the unfamiliar taste. Though his head was still spinning from the intensity of his orgasm, Fugo blinding reached out for the can of Fanta on the coffee table.

He cracked the rim open with an audible fizz, bringing into the edges of Narancia's lips. "Bucciarati said the taste isn't the most pleasant, an acquired taste. I'm sorry I didn't warn you about it before…" Narancia was gulping it down, making Fugo feel almost guilty.

Making short work of the can, Narancia let out a loud sigh. "So that's what that was for. I guess it wasn't too bad, just the texture was really weird, so it made me thirsty…If its yours, I'm sure I can get used to it." 

He cast this gaze down again, his eyelashes fluttering as his now swollen lips slightly parted, almost tempting Fugo to re-enact the lesson all over again…


End file.
